Lydia Stone
by Laylay92
Summary: "P-Please, don't." A calloused hand caressed her tear stricken cheek. His breath brushed her lips in utter hesitation. Her heart thundered against her rib cage as every ounce of her being tried to run. He tilted his head closer. A 22 year old latent witch, with latent power, welcomes her new life and new studies with open arms - and perhaps, new love. SNAPE/OC SLOWBUILDING
1. Chapter 1

Lydia Stone had not been at Hogwarts for long. It was her second week in the incredible castle, and her first year studying there. Lydia was what was classified as a 'late' witch. Her magical ability hadn't shown until she was twenty-two. The wonders of magic had always been what only existed in her dreams, and as much as she had loved the idea of it, she never thought anything of the kind was possible. She _hoped _that it was. And now here she was, a first-year student, with no magical knowledge or friends, taking first year classes with people almost ten years younger than her.  
Luckily Dumbledore had offered for her to take private classes at night with some of the professors, but that wouldn't be until her second month there. He wanted her to settle in and 'make friends.'  
Lydia soon discovered that being sorted into Slytherin wasn't the best thing, but it didn't really phase her.  
Learning that most magic was conducted through the use of a wand surprised her; apparently it was some kind of conduit for one to project their magic through, but also granted a certain amount of power to a witch or wizard – _that _piqued her interest. It was definitely something she wanted to research. Her wand was made from maple wood with a dragon heartstring core. It all sounded incredible to her, and when she held the wand it felt good in her hands.  
When Olivander handed her the wand and it bonded with her, he had eyed her knowingly, "You were made for this world. An explorer, you'll see!"  
Lydia had smiled at him awkwardly, but thinking on it now, it was probably more a feeling of excitement. She really wanted to be a part of this place.

Late at night Lydia sat in the Slytherin common room – soaking in the heat from the fireplace – and dwelling on her thoughts. She had left her job, her home and her friends to be here. But she didn't feel as though she would miss any of it greatly. No. It was more about how she would make herself fit into the magical world; and if she was being honest, this place was everything she could have ever hoped for, so she wanted to succeed.  
Lydia held her textbook for potions in her hands – it felt heavy. Professor Snape had made her feel uneasy. Though, it was clear he favoured the Slytherins, he didn't seem to be fair to other students in his class. Particularly Harry Potter and his friends. Lydia had heard all about the chosen one, and the dark lord – a history lesson that seemed too terrifying to be real. But it seemed the magic world had just as much darkness in it as the world she came from. Nevertheless, potions was a comforting class to her. It was familiar – almost like preparation for an exotic meal…just with toad's feet and powdered asphodel.  
She opened the textbook, her eyes running over the content for the week. It looked like they were going to be attempting to brew a potion called a Wiggenweld potion – some kind of healing potion. Lydia tilted her head as she skimmed the ingredients, "_salamander blood…lionfish spines," _it made her shiver at the thought of it. She shook her thoughts away, knowing that she needed to prepare for the class. Lydia hated making mistakes.

Two hours or so had passed while she was taking notes and studying the ingredients – Lydia hadn't even noticed that it was almost midnight. There was meant to be a curfew for students – she thought there was – maybe it didn't apply to the common rooms? It had been incredibly quiet since she started studying. She hadn't even seen another Slytherin the entire time she had been sitting on the couch, or maybe she hadn't noticed.  
The door to the common room suddenly swung open, followed by unabashed laughter and three boys shuffling in. _Malfoy. _There were many words she wanted to call that child that wouldn't be appropriate. She wondered if they had any manners at all, considering everyone was asleep.

"Did you see Potter's face!" Cackled Malfoy as his two followers laughed along with him.

"I bet he's never even felt a stinging hex before!" Said the boy she knew as Crabbe.

Malfoy paused mid laugh and finally noticed Lydia's presence, "Oh look boys, the mudblood is tainting our precious common room."  
Lydia felt a petulant glare rising to her face, but just smiled sweetly at them.  
"Isn't it a little past your bedtime boys?"  
Draco looked at her incredulously. Her words had twisted his face into a scowl.  
"How _dare _you speak to me that way. My father will have you thrown out of here if you ever think of speaking to me like a child again!"  
Lydia started to gather her things, not bothering to acknowledge the tantrum that was unfolding before her.  
"You will look at me when I speak to you!" He spat.  
Lydia sighed, looked at him, and asked, "Forgive me, how old are you again?"  
Crabbe piped up, "He's 12!"  
Draco elbowed Crabbe in the gut, while Goyle snickered at them both.  
"Oh, so a child then."  
Her statement left a very angry air in the room. She wasn't sure if he was lost for words, or trying to think of a spell to harm her with, but she figured she should probably leave before he tried anything. She was beginning to think that she should've asked for her own living quarters.

The dungeons were a cold place to wake up in. But Lydia liked the cold. She stretched under the covers and rolled to check the time. 7am. She decided to push the covers from her warm bed and meet the cold air of the day. It was going to be interesting – she could feel it.  
Lydia had hair that stretched quite far down her back in umber elegance. Today she had tied it back into a bun, it wouldn't do her well if her hair caught fire. Especially in the presence of the foreboding Professor Snape. She stared with her azure eyes at her pale complexion in the mirror – sunlight had never really been kind to her but she had always liked the porcelain glow to her skin – it seemed more eminent in the shadowy darkness of her chambers.  
The great hall was incredible.  
She had never been in a room this full of people before Hogwarts. It was welcoming in a way. The hushed mixture of chatter reminded her of when she was in school.  
Lydia was planning on sitting on her own. She could hear the snickering from the other Slytherins – though not all of them – and wasn't planning on sitting near them. Especially Draco and his followers.  
"Hey, you're the old lady that's a first year aren't you?"  
Lydia paused.  
"Ron!"  
She heard a thud, and an ow! And turned to her left, where she had passed a group of Gryffindor's.  
"What Ronald meant to say was, it's nice to meet you." The auburn-haired boy looked at his friend in confusion, but she hit him again and he nodded vigorously.  
"T-That's right, sorry. Ah, I'm Ron Weasley, this is Harry and Hermione."  
Lydia turned and took the seat that was gestured to her by the young girl, Hermione.  
"My name's Lydia Stone, it's nice to meet you all."  
Lydia could tell that they were all buzzing with questions to ask her, Hermione especially, but they managed to keep themselves at bay. Lydia noticed that Harry had an inflamed scratch-like wound on his hand and she realised that he must be the Harry Potter. The one that everyone whispered or spoke of in the halls.  
"Did Malfoy do that to you?" She asked.  
Harry shuffled with his sleeve, she could see the anger bubbling inside of him.  
"Yeah," he sighed, "I hate him."  
Lydia smiled knowing well what it felt like to be new to a place, new to a world, and treated unfairly by those there. She thought it must have been hard for him.  
"Harry, hate is a little strong of a word." Said Hermione.  
Lydia was surprised. That's what she was planning on saying. At least the boy had some good friends to help him here.  
"He _is _annoying to say the least." Said Lydia, watching as they chuckled at her word choice, "I think someone needs to knock him off his high horse."  
Ron looked bewildered, "…but he doesn't have a horse…we're at Hogwarts…"  
By the time Lydia left breakfast she had made three young friends – and it seemed like Hermione Granger had a lot to teach her about magic. She was grateful that she had made some connections, but it didn't stop her from wanting someone more her age to confide in about magic…and just life in general. She would endeavour to ask Dumbledore to introduce her to some people her own age. But today was about her classes – and trying to avoid Draco Malfoy. Which would be hard, because she was ten minutes away from starting her potions class with him.

It was Gryffindor and Slytherin that shared the potions class today. So, the little trio from breakfast were all sitting near Lydia in the classroom. It was comforting. There was a lot of chatter. A lot of arguing – and a lot of glaring from Draco Malfoy. Lydia knew that her alliance with the trio wouldn't bode well for her in most of the Slytherin's books. But she didn't really care. She opened her textbook and turned to the brewing page for the Wiggenwald potion. _  
"Finally," _She thought, _"this is something I have been looking forward to." _  
The crack of the classroom door slamming made everyone jump. Every conversation was sliced into silence as Professor Snape walked down the aisle and to his desk.  
"Today," he began, leaning on his desk facing the students, and crossing his arms over his chest, "we will be brewing the Wiggenwald potion. Can anyone tell me what the first ingredient is in this potion?" The sarcasm dripped from his tone. Lydia could tell he wasn't expecting anyone to answer the question.  
Before she could answer her textbook snapped shut and she jolted away from the book.  
"Perhaps, Ms Stone, you could use your _own _brain, instead of reading from the book in front of you."  
The Slytherin's snickered at her and so did some of the Gryffindors. She huffed. Lydia knew that trying to speak back to this man, after he reprimanded you, never went well. She kept her mouth shut and Hermione raised her hand to answer the question.  
Snape acknowledged her and nodded.  
"Salamander blood, sir."  
Snape hummed in annoyance, begrudgingly announcing, "5 points to Gryffindor."  
Hermione beamed.  
The Professor began pacing across the room to the blackboard, flexing his fingers as his eyes trailed over the students in the room. Then, in his smooth baritone he asked, "I don't suppose any of you did the reading that was prepared for this lesson?"  
There was only silence in reply.  
"Therefore," he sighed, "You wouldn't happen to know what _all _of the ingredients used in this potion are?"  
Lydia could see Hermione was itching to answer him, her hand stretched high in the air. But Lydia rose hers as well, and received an arched eyebrow from Snape.  
"Ms Stone. Don't have your book to peek at for answers – are you sure that you want to answer this; I will not hesitate to take points from my own house."  
Lydia had never wanted to roll her eyes more. He made her feel like a child, when she was far from it.  
She cleared her throat.  
"In order of adding them to the potion after the salamander blood, lionfish spines, flobberworm mucus, honey water and boom berry juice."  
His eyes narrowed.  
"5 points to Slytherin, but next time try not to be so arrogant when reciting ingredients. Potter brings enough arrogance to this classroom."  
Lydia shook her head and just watched as Snape carried on.  
"I hope you have all brought your textbooks with you like you were instructed to, if you have not then I hope your memory is as good as Ms Stone's."  
Lydia chanced a quick glance at the Professor, and there was a small flick to the top of his lip. He was smirking.

While some of her classmates had panicked and fiddled with ingredients – not having brought their textbooks – others were going quite well with their potions, from what she could tell. She could see that Hermione Granger was an incredibly talented young witch. Her potion was bubbling away perfectly. Lydia's was going quite well too. Though she wasn't as quick at brewing as some of the other students, her potion was the right colour and she had timed the adding of the ingredients perfectly.  
It was sudden. First the bubbling turned to ecstatic boiling – spitting liquid across the table. Theodore Nott sat at the table next to her, holding in his laughter with Draco and the others. The liquid was like fire – what managed to land on the table burned through the wood. Lydia stood quickly, "Professor!"  
Snape was already bounding down the aisle to her, wand extended. Lydia looked down at the potion. It was on the brink of explosion. She shoved the student closest to her – who happened to be Ron – hoping that he would be far enough from the blast. Each action taken – the echoing steps of Snape – the rise and fall of every breath she took; all felt like it had happened slowly. But it was a matter of seconds. Professor Snape was too late. As words were leaving his lips, the potion exploded over her. Liquid fire seared her skin. She wanted to scream, but her body was gasping for air so much that sound never escaped her lips. Then consciousness left her. 


	2. Chapter 2

Lydia had never experienced the type of pain that rippled across her body when she first came to. She hissed as she opened her eyes and blinked into consciousness.  
"Try not to move, dear." Said Madam Pomfrey.  
Lydia had met her on her first day - when Dumbledore showed her around Hogwarts. She seemed fairly friendly, but right now Lydia wanted nothing more than to sarcastically reply to her. She bit her tongue.  
"W-What happened?" Asked Lydia, searching Madam Pomfrey's eyes for answers.  
Pomfrey cleared her throat, "You were in a Potions accident. Lucky for you Severus is an incredible healer himself, so he managed to prevent tissue damage to your skin."  
"Oh," said Lydia, flexing as pain still stung her skin, "Is this some kind of curse? It still feels like my skin is burning."  
Madam Pomfrey's eyes showed hesitation but before she could answer Lydia she was cut off.

"I believe somebody sabotaged your potion. After investigation, that is. It seems that this particular perpetrator gained access to my stores, and used ingredients for an Erumpent potion to sabotage yours." Drawled Professor Snape, seeming to emerge from the shadowy corner of the infirmary.  
Lydia almost gawked at him.  
"The explosive potion? Someone tried to kill me?"  
Snape's steely gaze met hers, and she felt a little exposed under its scrutiny.  
"It would seem so, Ms Stone. However, clearly they were not fully aware of the power of an Erumpent potion, as the dimwitted fool would have blown up the entire classroom - including themselves."  
Lydia fidgeted in her pained state. She knew it was because of him, that she was alive - that any of them were.  
"Perhaps it would do you well to pay more attention to what goes into your cauldron. Good evening Ms Stone."  
Lydia watched as Snape's robes billowed behind him as he exited the room. She wondered if they were charmed to do that.  
"Don't mind him, Severus can be a little harsh." Said Pomfrey, as she handed Lydia a vial with a blue liquid in it.  
"What is it?" Lydia questioned, as she took the vial in her hand.  
Pomfrey smiled at her, "The reason Professor Snape was here. He brewed it for you. It will eliminate any side affects of the explosion."  
Lydia's blue eyes shone in the candlelit room, "Oh."

By the time Lydia had gotten back to her dormitory it was very late. She had been planning to study that night for her charms classes - she had been falling behind with some of the work because she had been researching magic so much. Her body was feeling much better, and she was grateful for the potion that Snape had brewed. She had a lot to learn.  
As she walked into her room she kicked off her shoes and let out a long exhale.  
"Home sweet home."  
Her sheets were still rumpled on her bed from when she left in the morning, but she didn't mind. Once she changed into her pajamas she was snuggled back under the covers in no time.  
"_So I missed Flying class and Charms today. I guess I shouldn't have goaded Malfoy so much - it's clear he was the one that sabotaged my potion. I will have to speak to Headmaster Dumbledore tomorrow." _With her last thoughts she drifted into a deep sleep. She was exhausted.

Morning light had well and truly passed by the time Lydia was able to speak with Dumbledore. It was late afternoon, and she received an owl after her last class. It read that she should meet him in his office to discuss recent matters. Lydia was worried. She had intentionally fired up Draco, because he was being a pest, but she should have known better. She hoped that Dumbledore would be understanding toward her.  
When the time came she stood outside his office wondering exactly how she was supposed to get in. But as those thoughts drifted through her mind, the statue drifted open and the passageway was revealed. She walked hesitantly into the office.  
"Ah, Ms Stone, so good to see you!"  
Lydia smiled politely at Dumbledore, who sat behind his desk, and appeared to be chewing on some kind of candy.  
"It's good to see you too, sir."  
"No need for formal mannerisms," he chuckled, "you may call me Albus."  
Lydia was surprised. That was the first time any of the Professors had offered their first name to her, and she felt privileged.  
"Thank you, Albus."  
Dumbledore gestured for her to take a seat, so she walked across the room and nervously sat down.  
There was a silence hanging above them for some time. Lydia wondered if he was waiting for her to say something - to apologise? But then he cleared his throat, looking up from a parchment he had been glancing at and said, "I suppose we have some things to talk about."  
Lydia nodded and gulped down her fear.  
"I'm so sorry Albus." She uttered.  
Dumbledore sputtered on the candy that he had been eating, "My dear, whatever for!?"  
Lydia was confused, "Well...because if I hadn't gotten into a confrontation with Draco the other night, then I wouldn't have endangered everyone in potions class."  
"You did nothing of the sort!" He replied, almost angrily. And then he stood walking around the desk with a soft expression.  
"_That _was the result of a pampered, pompous brat who acted out because someone stood up to him."  
Lydia laughed, Dumbledore seemed more upset about Draco's actions than she was.  
"So you are aware that it was Draco who sabotaged my potion?"  
"Severus did some _questioning _while you were in the infirmary...he is gifted at finding answers."  
Lydia smiled. To think that Draco was subjected to some kind of interrogation by that man, well, it made up a little for the pain she had experienced.  
"Hogwarts does not accept that kind of treatment toward a student. Of any age. Now, Draco will be reprimanded for his actions, but I leave the decision of his expulsion to you."  
Lydia bit her lip, "You're not going to expel him?" She asked.  
Dumbledore's brow creased, "I believe in redemption. Draco is a troubled child, but I think the longer he is here the more he will grow and change. If we send him away then there's no doubt that he would continue down the wrong path. But, if you feel threatened or unsafe then we must abide by what you would like to do."  
Lydia hummed in thought. She knew that Draco Malfoy's family was some kind of big deal, and that having Draco expelled would probably have worse repercussions for her than having him stay. Lydia didn't want to expel him. Dumbledore was right, people should have a chance to redeem themselves - and he was just a boy, playing a prank on a student. God knows she experienced those types of things when she was in school as a young girl.  
She shook her head.  
"No, I don't want to expel him. Just reprimand him however you see fit, and as long as he doesn't try to blow me up again I think we'll be fine."  
Dumbledore laughed at her response.  
"I think perhaps now would be a good time to discuss your living arrangements then?"  
Lydia glanced at him surprised, "What do you mean?"  
"If you would follow me." He said, and began to walk toward the exit of the office.  
Lydia followed, wondering where it was that they were going.

They were outside the castle - snow adorned the edge of the footpath as they walked toward the lake. The cold air bit at Lydia's cheeks and she shivered.  
"Not much farther," said Dumbledore - she wasn't sure where it was he was taking her, other than toward the lake.  
It was a beautiful lake though. Sometimes she would sit down under a tree and calm herself as she gazed out at the shimmering ripples.  
"Ah, here we are!" He exclaimed, and Lydia paused, unsure of what he meant.  
He turned back toward her, "Come." He ushered.  
Lydia took a few steps forward and felt as though she had crossed some kind of threshold.  
"Barriers," said Dumbledore, reading her expression and turning, "welcome to your new home."  
Lydia looked past him and gasped.  
By the lake sat a beautiful stone cabin, surrounded by wildflowers and a large oak tree. She could feel the warmth and welcome emanating from the small house.  
"This is for me?" She asked quietly, taking a few steps forward.  
"Of course! I know you have no home here, so I decided to make Hogwarts your home. I am sorry it took a little longer than expected to prepare this for you."  
Lydia took quicker steps toward the house, "Oh please don't apologise! This is so beautiful. I am so incredibly grateful, how can I repay you?"  
Dumbledore's hearty laugh echoed across the rippling waters of the lake and he put a hand on her shoulder as they neared the entrance, "Just become the witch I know you can be, _that _will be payment enough."  
Lydia could feel tears swelling in her eyes at the act of incredible kindness.  
"As for your finances here, I can arrange for a job in Diagon Alley if that would be alright with you. Flourish and Blotts are looking for someone to take care of their store on weekends - it wouldn't be much, but it's something to keep you going while you're here."  
Lydia wanted to hug the man. So she did. She gripped him tightly, whispering thank you over and over again. Dumbledore returned the hug just as vigorously.  
"You are more than welcome. I will leave you to explore your new residence, and you will be owled a timetable of private classes for you to take with Professors, but you are still expected to take classes with the other students."  
Lydia couldn't help the excitement that wanted to burst from her. She had been waiting to start private classes, and thought that he wasn't going to allow it. She smiled brightly at him.  
"Thank you!"  
He turned to walk away, but paused, "Before I forget, you will be the only one that the house will open to, unless you welcome another into your home. It will remain invisible to the other students - only myself and the other Professors will be able to see it. The same rule applies for any friends you may acquire along the way - they will only see the house if you welcome them here. Good day."  
It wasn't until Dumbledore was a blur in the distance that she turned back to her new home._ Her home. _She approached the oak door and it opened for her. She smiled.  
_"Magic really is something." _she thought.  
Hardwood floors met her eyes, stone counter-tops, and a grey chaise by a hearth followed suit. It was exquisite. She noticed a bookshelf filled with all kinds of books - Dumbledore must have picked out a collection for her - everything from the history of magical heroes, to handy house spells sat before her. She giggled with glee. When she earned some money of her own she would make sure she found a gift to thank him for everything that he had done.  
She walked further through the house - the smell of wild flowers drifted through the open window, where she could see the edge of the lake. It felt weightless there. When she opened the bedroom door she nearly gasped. The bed itself was enormous - layered in pillows and plush looking blankets - she really couldn't wait to snuggle under the covers later.  
The bathroom was the last place she looked at, and my, was it stunning. Navy blue tiles ran across the walls, there was a wide shower placed in the corner and just by it was a beautiful porcelain tub. She could see herself devouring a book and sipping wine while she soaked away her worries. She wondered if Dumbledore would let her have alcohol in the house. A question for another time.  
Lydia walked back to the open sitting room - she was grateful that Dumbledore had included a little study nook in the house too. There was a desk with writing utensils and some spare notebooks - he had thought of everything.  
Lydia planned to go back to her dormitory to collect the rest of her things - but she decided that first she would compose a thank you letter to Professor Snape. Although he seemed like a harsh man, he had saved her and her life was precious. So she took a seat at her new desk and wrote out a careful, thankful note.

_Dear Professor Snape,_

_I would like to apologise for any inconvenience I may have caused you with the Potions incident. _

_I understand that you are the reason that I am still living and breathing, and for that I will forever be grateful. _

_Please let me know if there is any way I can repay you. _

_Kind Regards,_

_Lydia Stone_

Lydia was hesitant to send the letter after she finished composing it. She was worried that he would be offended that she hadn't thanked him in person. But from what she could tell, he was a private man - and a busy one. Bothering him in person appeared to be a gamble, in her books. So she sent the letter, and tried to forget that she had written it in the first place.

By 9pm Lydia was back in her cabin, a full belly, and all social-ed out. She had stayed later at dinner than she expected, Hermione, Ron and Harry had all been bursting with questions about the incident. They wanted to know who did it, and thank her for pushing Ron out of the way. Ron seemed very grateful too - she was happy that he hadn't gotten hurt.  
Harry couldn't believe that Professor Snape had saved her, and then brewed her a potion to help complete the rest of her healing. He seemed dumbfounded that the 'greasy git', as he worded it, would ever provide help to someone out of the goodness of his heart.  
Then she was informed about the rest of their thoughts about the Professor. About how they were suspicious that he was up to something - they had noticed odd behaviour.  
Lydia was sitting on her couch, braiding her wet hair, as she thought about all of the information she had received at dinner. She let out a small giggle - how was she even considering the ramblings of 12 year olds? She supposed it was because Hermione seemed to strongly believe in what the boys were spouting to her, and Hermione was incredibly smart and mature for her age.

Darkness had laid itself across the grounds of Hogwarts, and snow was falling softly from the sky when Lydia decided she should get some sleep. She pulled herself from the warm blanket she had snuggled in on the couch and turned to switch the light off.  
While walking to the switch she noticed something on her desk. Something that hadn't been there when she returned from dinner. An _envelope._ She nearly tripped over the coffee table as she walked to the desk. The letter had distracted her.  
She opened it.

_Ms Stone,_

_While I accept your apology for disrupting my class, I cannot accept your gratitude. As a teacher it is my duty to protect each student under my care. It may be of great surprise to you, but you are not special - I did what I have done for years, which is prevent further disaster from occurring in my presence. _

_Please do refrain from sending me letters of no importance. _

_The Headmaster has agreed that you will maintain your private classes with myself, but you will no longer attend the group class. _

_Professor Snape_

"Well, that was...what I expected." She said aloud, grinning while she walked to her bedroom.  
She knew that he was a grumpy git, but that was just rude. It was like she had offended him simply for saying thank you. She _had_ offended him for saying thank you.  
She was happy about their decision to remove her from the potions class. It would be hard to keep track of what every student was doing AND make sure no one was throwing random ingredients into her cauldron.  
Severus Snape was fast becoming an enigma to her. She vaguely wondered what type of person and career he would have had in her world. Perhaps a scientist? Something like that would suit him.  
It had been a long few days. The last thoughts that left her mind as she fell asleep were about her friends in her hometown. When she agreed to come to Hogwarts she had also agreed to erase the memory of her existence from her world. It had been a tough decision to make. But as she stared at the roof of her new home, she knew that this was exactly where she wanted to be. 


	3. Chapter 3

_The rain thundered down from above, the sky striking lightning in its anger. Lydia was in a bubble, silence entranced her as she knelt in front of the body. Blood poured from the bullet wound and molded with the puddle of rainwater around her knees. She reached her trembling hand over the gushing wound. _  
_"Please stop," She begged, "Please stop bleeding." _  
_She sobbed._  
_Jeremy's eyes were almost empty. His skin had turned pail and was draining to white by the second. He was going to die right in front of her. _  
_Blood._  
_There was so much blood. _  
_She could hear sirens in the distance, but she knew they would be too late. She tried to press down on the wound, and Jeremy cried out in pain. _  
_"J-Just leave me." He sputtered on blood as the words left his mouth. _  
_"The ambulance will be here soon, you just have to hang on." Her voice quivered, and though she tried to give him hope, she herself felt hopeless. _  
_"Please hold on Jeremy, please." She begged him._  
_She looked up to the sky and begged whoever was watching over her to spare him. He had tried to save her, and now he was going to die here in the street. _  
_She shivered. _  
_Her hands still trembled as they clung to his body trying to will him to stop bleeding. To stop dying. She sobbed over and over - why had no one tried to help them? Why had no one come when the gunshot was fired? Did they have no humanity? _  
_Then he uttered words that she knew she didn't want to hear._  
_Because they meant goodbye._  
_She couldn't say goodbye._  
_He tried to lift a hand as he gurgled on blood, Lydia grasped it in her own - watching as his green eyes fluttered._  
_"I love you." _  
_"No!" She cried, frantic._  
_"You have to stay with me. I love you. I LOVE you! You can hold on!" _  
_She squeezed his hand._  
_But it was limp. His whole body was limp. _  
_"No." She sobbed. _  
_She shook him, but his eyes remained vacant - empty. The rain was still crashing down and her heart fell from her chest. She lifted her trembling hands over him and they shook as she grabbed his blood soaked shirt. _  
_"Please." She begged to no one._  
_Her tremors became more intense and she felt something clawing its way from her. Her fingers flexed and she felt a magnified energy bursting from her fingertips. Her lips parted in a gasp and she watched in awe as the flesh from the bullet wound began to knit itself back together. _  
_"Oh my god." She exclaimed, her hands burning as the wound closed. _  
_She sat there, speechless, as the flesh became whole again and tears cascaded down her cheeks. _  
_Lydia scrunched his shirt in her hands. _  
_"Jeremy?" She called softly. _  
_But there, in the darkened streets of London - where rain fell unrelenting from the sky; and sirens blasted as they neared the scene, Jeremy was gone._

Lydia sprung out of her bed - trembling and gulping in buckets of air. She struggled to get out of the twisted covers - where her body had been covered in a sheen of sweat - and ran to the bathroom. There, the contents of her stomach were brought up and into the sink. She coughed and sputtered as the last of her dinner was emptied from her.  
She trembled in the night air. Turning the tap on she cupped the water with her hands and splashed her face with it. She hated that memory. Her eyes still stung with tears. She grimaced as she looked at her hands, and for a moment could see her blood stained palms again. She splashed the water one more time.  
It was essentially the middle of the night. But Lydia didn't care. She needed to go for a walk and clear her head. She threw a sweater over the top of her night dress, and pulled her boots on before hazily heading out the door.  
Moonlight splayed over the lake and it glistened as her footsteps trailed along the edge. A cold breeze carried the tree branches as snow stricken ground sunk beneath her feet. She breathed. Her hands still trembled deep in her pockets. Jeremy's lifeless eyes were still at the front of her mind, but she had calmed some as she walked along the edge of the lake.  
She paused.  
Turning to look out at the moonlit surface before her.  
It was breathtaking.  
Illuminated by the night sky, listening to the leaves as they shifted in the wind, she felt better. She began to wonder if Dumbledore knew exactly how her magic had first shown itself. He had never mentioned it when she was first brought to Hogwarts, but that didn't mean he hadn't known. She also wondered if that type of magic was meant to be possible for a witch or wizard. The thought of her magic brought her mind back to Jeremy and she suddenly wished she hadn't let herself think about it.

"A bit late for a moonlight stroll, is it not?" A deep voice suddenly said from behind her.  
She jolted, and turned around, nearly tripping as she fumbled for words in front of Professor Snape.  
"P-Professor!" She said, pulling on her sweater and wishing in that moment that she had put something more on.  
He appeared to take no notice of her current attire and eyed her strangely. She felt as though he were trying to peer into her mind, but shook her head.  
"I'm sorry, I was having trouble sleeping and thought some fresh air would clear my head."  
He nodded, and Lydia wanted to ask him why he was out at the lake this late at night. But before she could word the question he folded his arms across his chest and said, "Sometimes the older students like to 'hide' down by the boat house and _indulge _in the frivolities of intoxication."  
"Oh," she started, and turned to look over the water again, "Sorry to interrupt your duties then."  
"I suppose it would be rude of me to not inquire as to whether or not you are well, Ms Stone."  
His posture had stiffened, but he had taken a few steps forward to stand by her side overlooking the lake. Lydia chanced a glance at him but his expression was shielded by his long black hair. She cleared her throat.  
"Yes, thank you, I'm fine." She replied quietly.  
He nodded, "Right, back inside then. We don't need you to have more excuses for your abominable efforts in your classes - god forbid you catch a cold."  
His words dripped with sarcasm, but she wanted to giggle. And she did - a small hiccup in front of the angry potions master. He huffed and turned away heading toward the boat house. She stared at his retreating form in wonder. Perhaps he wasn't who everyone thought he was.

AUTHORS NOTE: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter - I'm getting bored with my OWN fanfic, haha! I will definitely try to keep it interesting next chap, hopefully those of you that are reading are enjoying it so far...  
I apologise for the changing of tenses, it's annoying me reading over some of it - I will try to edit when I get the chance! 


	4. Chapter 4

Severus Snape was a complex man. It was evident in the way that he spoke, how he conducted himself, and _treated _other people. It was evident in the way he cast a spell, or raised his voice - even now; under the flickering shadows of candlelight, as he graded paper after paper, he was complex.  
He was a tired man.  
The week had been taxing - as though he had been sucked into a constant barrage of ineptitude. He shifted the pile of paper in front of him to his right, then moved the next pile before him. A long sigh left his lungs. It was hard for him to concentrate. And that was something Severus Snape was not used to. He commanded his mind, it did not command him.  
His thoughts lingered on the conversation he had with Draco Malfoy - the foolish child who had almost blown up his classroom.  
The foolish child who was also his godson.  
The _foolish _child whose father was a Death Eater, faithfully awaiting the return of the Dark Lord. It was thin ice where Severus stood.

The confrontation with Lucius had gone as he expected. Lucius spat insults at Severus for not understanding the gravity of just how much trouble he was in for allowing Draco to nearly be expelled._ Oh_, the shame that Severus would have placed on their family.  
Snape had just nodded - played along with the niceties, "I will not allow this to happen again, Lucius - I promise you."  
Lucius had eyed him with such disdain - but Snape had experienced every kind of disdainful look, in every possible way, for his entire life and there weren't many looks that phased him.

It was late. The creaks in his neck and dull ache in his lower back were one of the indicators. He looked down at the last paper to be marked.  
_Lydia Stone._  
The student who was currently the talk of Hogwarts.  
The student who had begun to cause him nearly as much grief as Potter. But the girl was intriguing, if anything.  
Snape recalled the night he was doing his rounds - he had felt that oh too familiar burn in his forearm; felt the trickle like lava. Because it meant what everyone suspected - and he knew, deep in his bones, that the Dark Lord would return, it was only a matter of time.  
He had been searching the grounds to make sure that nothing was amiss. Every time he had felt that burn in his arm, something had gone awry. But that night appeared to be just an ordinary stroll for Severus. Until he came across the girl.  
Lydia Stone. The name was becoming an annoyance to him. He had noticed a disturbance in the barriers around her cabin - had felt something petrified crying out across the wavelengths. So he did what any Professor would have done, which was check on the distressed student.  
Though; the distressed student was a young woman, pale and clammy, clad in a nightgown and haphazard sweater - _haphazard_ herself. He had jolted her from whatever reverie she was living - and as their eyes met, her mind as weak as it was in that moment - flashed images of spattered blood and knitted flesh. Severus wasn't sure what it was he saw exactly, but he could tell that Ms Stone was still reeling from whatever memory, or dream, she had been thinking of. So he stayed momentarily - completely out of character for himself, and tried to comfort her in the only way he knew how. Which was sarcastic insults to distract her. It worked.

At his desk, with his aching back and neck, he drifted back to reality. He wondered what it was that she was hiding - and how Dumbledore had come across her. He hadn't been very privy with the information, nor mentioned any kind of indication to her magical ability. Just that her powers didn't show until she needed them, and he felt she would develop her powers best under the guidance of Hogwarts.  
'Meddling old fool,' he thought, gathering the piles of papers, that had black scratched notes all over them. His students had been disappointing with their assignments apart from a select few. The next generation of witches and wizards was a disappointing one. How were they supposed to survive this world?  
Snape had made his way to his chambers, as his thoughts clouded him. His nightly routine consisted of a nice, long shower; and potions research before bed. It was all he could do in preparation for what he knew was to come.  
It had daunted him. The things that Dumbledore had asked him to do. But it was a debt he was willing to pay. And if he could redeem himself, somehow in Lily's eyes, it would all be worth it. Even if it meant protecting the Potter brat.

It was on the other side of Hogwarts that Albus Dumbledore found himself thinking of similar things. Of war and peace - of protecting the Chosen One. The things that would be in store for the young boy haunted him too. He knew Severus would keep him safe at any cost - he had already proven so at the recent Quidditch match. He was glad Severus had been there - Dumbledore was an incredible wizard. But so was Severus. And his knowledge had been what kept Harry on his broom in the game, not anything that Albus had done.  
Yet Dumbledore could see the disdain that both Harry and Severus had for each other. It hurt him to think that Harry knew not of the deep connection that Severus had shared with his mother - and of the lengths that Severus would go to protect Harry. They both appeared to be as stubborn as the other.  
It would be a hard year.

**AUTHORS NOTE: Ok I am sorry for the shortness of this chapter too...For those of you that may be following I am going to jump forward a little as I am going to introduce a new character blah blah. I hope you're enjoying my ramblings so far - I PROMISE it will get better.  
PS: To my fanfiction readers – you can also find this story on wattpad. The book cover is actually what I created Lydia to look like ****  
I think this link should work?  
story/182075219-lydia-stone**


	5. Chapter 5

Flourish and Blotts had become something akin to a second home to Lydia. It had been almost over a year now that she had been working there. Every book had a special place in her heart - the literature inside of them was precious to her. She had become Assistant Manager in such a small time, and it made her proud of her hard work. She had been given permission to study if she had finished all of her jobs for the day, which she really appreciated, and they had hired another Assistant to help with the workload.  
His name was Abel Alcott. Abel was a little younger than Lydia, she was twenty-three now - her birthday passing in December - and he was twenty. He had scruffy sandy blonde hair - always looking a rushed mess; but had the sweetest personality.  
Speaking of sweet personalities.  
Lydia had been placing some of the more aggressive books on the shelf when Abel walked in with delicious smelling _coffee. _  
She had found it difficult to acquire at Hogwarts, and even though she knew she could ask for them to keep some for her, she didn't. Lydia felt they had already done enough for her, and she could go without as long as she got it when she worked. Which was every shift that Abel was there.  
"Abel!" She smiled, jumping down from the ladder and walking over to him.  
Abel held the coffee in one hand and scrambled with his bag, that looked very heavy, hanging from his shoulder.  
"Hey Lydia - I have your energy cup!"  
Lydia laughed and reached out, "Let me help you," she said. She took the coffee tray from him and watched as he struggled to shove his books back into his bag - they had almost spilled out onto the floor when he had come through the door.  
Abel was a pretty skinny guy.  
He looked almost goofy, but it was all part of his quirkiness to her.  
"So," he said, dropping his bag on a shelf behind the counter, "What's on the agenda for today boss?"  
Lydia opened their delivery book and slid it across the counter to him, "I've done most of them, but I've left you a few owl deliveries to prepare."  
She grabbed her coffee cup and took a long sip, "thank you," she said, before taking another.  
Abel ruffled his hair, "It's the least I could do, considering you're always to kind to me when I'm running late."  
"That would be different if you didn't have coffee. The consequences would be dire."  
He looked like he believed her for a moment; the panic evident in his grey eyes, but then the realisation dawned on him and he laughed.  
"That's right," he started, picking up his own coffee and warming his hands, "You'd be dead without your caffeine fix."

Their shift had been dragging on. Or so Abel thought. He looked over at Lydia - she was leaning on the counter reading one of the books that she had ordered in that week. Abel leaned back, away from the tower of books he was neatening, "Interesting read, then?" he asked.  
Lydia looked up, startled - it was like she had forgotten he was there. Abel had noticed that she was one to become completely immersed in a book. Especially books regarding magic.  
Abel was a squib.  
He was from a fairly prominent wizarding family - the Alcott's. Both of his parents were medi trained, and worked at St Mungo's. They also funded a research facility, looking into developing new, more powerful healing magic.  
"Actually, yes. It's fascinating. Rune magic. I don't really get to study much of it in my classes - it's a bit more advanced. But Professor Dumbledore has said that he might be able to organise some classes with Bathsheda Babbling, the Rune's Professor at Hogwarts."  
Abel eyed her curiously, "There's a Professor at Hogwarts called Bathsheda Babbling?"  
Lydia smirked and nodded.  
Abel shuffled a few more books in the pile, "I wonder what kind of person she is with a name like that!"  
"Come on Abel, that's not very nice!" She said, closing the book and walking around the counter to put her hands grumpily on her hips.  
"Hey, I didn't mean it like that!"  
Their laughter echoed in the empty store - and soon it was close to closing time.

"So are you prepared for what this year may entail at Hogwarts, Lydia?" Asked Abel as he was grabbing his things.  
Lydia hummed in thought, "You mean am I prepared to possibly fight a troll or fear for the lives of my friendly little trio and their shenanigans?"  
She nodded slowly, but then shook her head back and forth vigorously, "I really wouldn't like to fight a troll. I honestly have no idea how those three survived."  
"Well, just be careful. I don't want another Manager here - so you should avoid all troll-fighting shenanigans."  
She smiled softly at him, "I will try my best. Goodnight Abel." She waved to him as he walked out of the store - and Lydia followed behind him to lock it.

Lydia tumbled out of her floo and very ungracefully splat on the floor.  
"Ow!" She yelled, pushing herself from her heap on the ground. She still hadn't gotten used to floo-ing. Even though she was grateful that they had set one up for her straight from Flourish and Blotts to her home, the floo network hated her. Every. Single. Time. She ended up on the floor.  
But there was no time for her to complain. She had to prepare for her classes. It was one week until she went back to her studies, and one week until all the other students returned.

She had three major assignments given to her by her tutors, plus the general classwork she had to prepare for.  
Her assignments were done and dusted early on. All but one.  
Professor Quirrel had been tutoring her.  
She shivered at the thought of him. The _traitor. _Lydia hated the fact that she hadn't sensed something was amiss with him. He had almost unleashed something terrifying on them all - and if it weren't for Harry, then they'd all be facing something much worse.

Quirrel had been her Defense Against the Dark Arts tutor.  
Her assignment had been to cast the Fiendfyre spell. The more Lydia had researched it, the more she had realised what an advanced and incredibly powerful spell it was. Every piece of information she found told her that she would not be able to cast that spell.  
Lydia came to her own realisation about Professor Quirrel. That he had only asked her to learn the spell so that she didn't learn anything else. Anything of use to her in defensive magic.  
She had taken it upon herself to learn all kinds of defensive spells - but they lacked power - and obviously a good teacher. So she did waste a lot of time casting and recasting the Fiendfyre spell. It sparked and grew, twisted and dived, but never an exciting burst of powerful flames - never did it take shape - just twisted into nothingness.  
It was hopeless.

Lydia had been by the lake - further from her house, so that she didn't accidentally burn it down; where she had one last attempt at casting the Fiendfyre spell.  
She raised her wand.  
She let the wand guide her movement as she thought of the spell.  
The magic ciphered from her body, slivered down her arm and into the wand. Embers of the flames began to burst forth, sparking out over the lake.  
It was wild. Each singular ember had joined into a conglomerate before her - taking no shape, but staying together nonetheless.  
She felt excited. It had never taken such a strong form before - and now before her it had. She wanted to try just a little more. So she did.  
She gave it a little more magic; offered it a little more power to see what it would do. But as she did she heard the crackle of leaves from behind her.

"What do you think you are doing!"  
The shocked tone caused her to completely disengage from the spell - dropping her wand - the flames dissipated like a popped balloon.  
"Idiot girl!"  
She turned swiftly, "P-Professor, I-"  
"Silence! You will come with me _now!_"  
Professor Snape, in that moment, completely terrified her. She could still feel the rage from his eyes burning into her skin.  
He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the castle.  
"I'm sick of you arrogant students always thinking you know better!"  
Lydia tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was firm and angry.  
"P-Please, let me explain."  
He turned to her, so sharply that she almost ran into him, "_You _will accompany me to the Headmasters office, where we will discuss the consequences of your idiotic actions."

As Lydia waited outside of Dumbledore's office, she could feel the vibrations of Snape's anger through the castle walls. His voice kept getting louder and louder, and Lydia was sure that he had scared almost all paintings to death.

_"She has no regard for her surroundings, no regard for rules - she nearly blew up the castle Albus!"  
_  
_"And yet, she did not. Severus, would you please calm down and let us talk about this in a civilised manner."  
_  
_"DO not tell me to calm down! If it weren't for me half of the castle would be in pieces. Your precious pet would be dead."_

Lydia heard muffled voices - she hadn't realised that Mcgonagall and Flitwick had been summoned there too. But when she heard their voices she felt some relief. They were defending her where Snape would not.

_"Severus you're being too harsh on the girl. She may have broken the rules, but she is a promising witch who has learned from her mistakes in the past."_

_"Minerva, you are too kind to her. A Slytherin nonetheless. She is an arrogant, uneducated fool and I will not stand for it!"_

_"If everyone would calm down, perhaps we should ask Ms Stone why exactly she was attempting to cast the spell."_

Lydia smoothed her shirt down, nervous as she heard the door unlocking and found Dumbledore's face half-smiling at her.

"Would you join us please?"

Lydia stepped into his office - it was darker than usual. She noticed the friendly faces of Flitwick and Mcgonagall, who offered her reassuring smiles as she walked to the middle of the room.  
She felt like she was on trial.  
Maybe she was.  
She dared not to look in the darkest corner of the room, where she knew Severus Snape was lingering, the scowl so loud that it gave her goosebumps.  
Dumbledore came to stand before her, his brightly decorated robes just brushing the stone of the floor.  
"Ms Stone, could you please explain to us what it was you were doing this afternoon by the lake?"  
Lydia gulped. The usual porcelain of her skin had become pale and clammy. She took a deep breath.  
"B-Before, when Professor Quirrel was my Dark Arts tutor, he had given me an assignment. To learn the Fiendfyre spell, and to be able to cast it after the break."  
She heard the hushed whispers between Mcgonagall and Flitwick, but cleared her throat as the whispers drifted into silence.  
"I know it was an impossible task from the beginning. I did a lot of research before I tried to cast it and everything told me that a witch of my abilities would not be able to cast it."  
A billowing form emerged from the shadows.  
"And yet," a few steps behind her, "You still chose to cast the spell. You still attempted it. You did it under no supervision, and no instruction."  
"Severus, please." Asked Dumbledore, clasping his hands together.  
Snape quietened and returned to his dark corner. Lydia wished he would stay there.  
"Ms Stone. Now that Professor Quirrel is no longer here, you are no longer under any obligation to complete his assignments. And though that spell is incredibly dangerous, and you should not try to cast it again without proper training, instruction and supervision; I would like to commend you."  
Lydia thought she had heard him wrong and looked up from the spot on the ground that didn't seem so interesting anymore. Dumbledore continued, "It is not often that a wizard of _any _kind can even get the embers of the Fiendfyre spell to leave their wand, and yet you managed to form a body of fire."  
"Headmaster, you can't be serious," again the dark, drawling voice of Snape echoed above their heads, "Commending her for casting dangerous magic? I will _not _stand for this any longer!"  
Snape gathered his robes, let them billow behind him menacingly as he made for his fury-filled exit, but as his hand turned the handle - once, then he tried again - the door would not open.  
It was a while before he turned back to face them. They waited.  
Then a swift movement of his body and Lydia swore if he were a wolf, his teeth would be showing.  
"Enough, Severus. Do not interrupt me." Dumbledore's voice had become coated in a darkness that Lydia hadn't heard from the man before.  
Snape said nothing. A steel glare matched his frowned brow, but no words left him.  
"I understand, and hear your concerns Severus. Nor have I forgotten your concerns Minerva, Filius," he gestured to them both, as they stood in their quiet corner - observers to what had ended up being an fiery Snape and eventually an even angrier Dumbledore - he continued, "Severus, I have a task for you. I believe that each of us in this room can vouch for your Defence Against the Dark Arts prowess and skill. That said, in addition to your Potions lessons with Ms Stone, you will also allot time to tutor her in defensive spells."  
Lydia had moved to the side of the room - closer to Mcgonagall and Flitwick - and as she listened, she waited for the next explosion to leave Professor Snape.  
Yet he did not explode.  
It looked like, for only a second, he had fumbled for words - lost his composure in a slight quiver of his lips, and then just said "Of course."  
This time when he turned to exit the room, the door opened, and he left.  
"Marvelous!" Exclaimed Dumbledore.

**Authors note: Thank you to those who have followed this story! I upload my chapters a bit faster on Wattpad if anyone would like an earlier read!  
I'm sorry for this chapter. I got a bit lost myself :S  
Sometimes you gotta get the boring out to get the good in! Haha. Please keep following along – I do have plans for this fic! I promise I write better than this too! I forgot that it's still hard maintaining characters and a world that aren't even your own! BAH  
Thank you again! I hope you are enjoying what I am forcing out of my brain….. THANKSKBYE**


	6. Chapter 6

The first week back in school term was exhausting. The commitment that Lydia had made to her studies and work was taking a toll on her. She did like the chaos of it all though.  
There were some new faces - the new first years brightly grinning in excitement everywhere they went. The mischief that some had already gotten into astounded her.  
She hadn't spoken much to the little trio since their first day back. She was sure they would be getting up to no good soon too. She hoped they would stay safe.  
Lydia was still reeling from the Fiendfyre event. She had only wanted to try the spell one last time, to prove to herself that it _would _be hopeless to try and cast it. Instead she was barraged with insults from Professor Snape - who had not looked at her once since the incident - and then forced to take extra lessons with him by Dumbledore! She was livid. That man hated her. She could taste it in the air every time a word left his mouth. It was uncomfortable.  
Lydia was disappointed that her own head of house had such low expectations, and no respect for her. It daunted her at times. Had she really been so terrible? She thought she had been doing well. Dumbledore and her other Professors thought so too, so what was it that he saw in her?

It was their third day of classes - Lydia was sitting in transfiguration with some Hufflepuffs, and she thought she heard someone say her name.  
Which was bizarre because amongst the multiple rows of students in the class, none of them had even lifted a head since they had begun taking notes.  
_"Lydia." _She heard it again.  
It was a silky whisper that crept up her spine and just touched the cusp of her ears. She thought she had imagined it. But then again, louder.  
_"Lydia!" _Her eyes darted around the room, and not one soul had flinched. Her heart had started to pound, her skin a little clammy - no one had budged.  
"Are you alright, dear?" Asked Mcgonagall from the front of the room.  
Lydia swallowed and smiled politely, hesitantly, "May I go to the bathroom?"  
Mcgonagall just nodded - in an understanding way. So Lydia quickly, and quietly left the classroom - perhaps the voice wouldn't follow her.

Meanwhile, far, far away from Hogwarts; a meeting occurred - a meeting with black cloaked figures, shrouded in the darkness of their sins.  
"Why have you called this meeting, _Lucius?_" Severus spat the words with as much venom as he felt for the man.  
Lucius stood in the middle of their circle, unmasked, unlike the others. He tapped his wand against his palm, tutting at Severus as though he were silencing him.  
"I have called you all here because great things are in motion. The Dark Lord will return, and with him glorious madness and chaos. I for one am looking forward to worshipping the exquisite disasters he will cause. You on the other hand," he looked at Severus, malice burning in his eyes, "don't seem as pleased as I for his imminent return."  
There were hushed whispered among them - something Severus was used to.  
"I have been deceiving the other side for far longer than you could even fathom, Lucius, so do forgive me if I do not outwardly show as much excitement for the return of our master. I am, of course, _thrilled _for his return." Said Severus, in the process taking off his mask too.  
It always was him and Lucius unmasking in the heat of an argument.  
His speech had achieved silence for the moment. That was all he truly needed to know that he had calmed their doubts. It was too easy.  
"What of Dumbledore's new prodigy," a voice chimed in, "are we not carrying out our plan?"  
Severus faltered, but to them it was a simple clearing of his throat, "The girl is not your concern. I alone was tasked with her, and though there have been some complications, the plan will proceed."  
Out in the dark of the forest they had chosen to meet at, the leaves rustled in the wake of the wind; Lucius's scowl was illuminated by the moonlight.  
"Then you can confirm that you will take care of the girl, and the Potter boy?"  
"Yes." He answered, tight lipped.  
"Well then, Severus, you won't mind showing us at our next meeting just _how _exactly that plan is going?"  
Snape sneered, he radiated hatred in that moment - "Of course."  
The last thing that pressed into his mind after they had all apperated, was the disgustingly smug, smiling face of Lucius Malfoy.

Lydia's stomach emptied from her body into the toilet. That's how she felt with every heave. The pain from the voices had finally completely subsided, so much so that it was as though she hadn't felt it at all.  
Perhaps she was under too much stress.  
Or perhaps Hogwarts was a little creepier than she thought. Apart from random trolls running around, ghosts, poltergeists and a Dark Lord that Harry had apparently ejected from Quirrell's body thus saving the school from damnation; added voices in her head could just be all part of the Hogwarts charm.  
She felt a shiver thinking about it all.  
Mcgonagall was probably wondering where she had gotten to.

By the time she had returned to class, it was over. She shuffled through the exiting students and made her way to gather her things. Mcgonagall was at her desk speaking to a student and as they left she approached Lydia.  
"Are you alright?" She asked.  
Lydia stopped, swung her bag over her shoulder and cleared her throat, "Actually, I'm not sure to be honest. I probably should have mentioned this a little sooner, but I thought that it might've just been lack of sleep - I have been hearing voices." She replied.  
"Hearing voices?"  
"Yes, like voices calling my name at random times. Sometimes it causes me to become a little disoriented and can cause me to become ill."  
Mcgonagall looked worried, "You should have mentioned this sooner, Ms Stone. I'd like you to head straight to Madam Pomfrey. I will inform the Headmaster of your problem."  
Lydia's eyes widened, "Wait, please don't Professor. I have caused him enough trouble recently, and I promise I will inform him if Madam Pomfrey can find out what's wrong with me, but until then could you please keep this between us?"  
Professor Mcgonagall looked as though the next words pained her, "OK. But you will keep me informed, you will tell no one else unless it becomes of threat to your health again. Is that clear?"  
"Yes mam."  
"_Professor, _to you."  
"Yes, Professor."  
Lydia hurried out of the room without turning back. Her thoughts lingered on the tough exterior that Professor Mcgonagall portrayed. She was actually a very caring person - Lydia supposed you had to have tough skin to teach at Hogwarts.

"I said, cast it _again!_"  
Lydia gripped her wand as tight as she could, and cast Bombarda - focusing with all her might. But as she felt her magic feed through the wand, it twisted and turned away from the target. It was like it was purposely trying to embarrass her.  
She heard a quiet chuckle from behind her.  
"And you thought you would try to cast Fiendfyre. Your stupidity astounds me, Ms Stone." A snide Professor Snape remarked.  
Lydia felt so much rage gurgling within her - how she wished she could cast the spell on his face. Then he would regret mocking her.  
She turned to him.  
"Do you have to speak to me like that?"  
He sneered, "like what? Speak to you like the imbecilic abomination of a student that you are?"  
Lydia wanted to snap her wand.  
"Face the front and cast the spell again. Do not turn around."  
Lydia huffed and turned back. She imagined the target was his face and yelled, "Bombarda!"  
The spark from her wand flew directly to the target and a small explosion left pieces of it fraying to the ground.  
She stared.  
"I did it." She spoke to the room.  
It was her third lesson with Professor Snape for spell casting. It was her third time trying to cast Bombarda over and over again. Listening to his hatred filled remarks as she failed numerous times.  
"Your magic is tied to your emotions. Sometimes letting them guide your magic is helpful, and in this situation it was. You have terrible control over your magic, Ms Stone, that is why I find it so hard to believe you could even attempt to cast the Fiendfyre spell," he paused and she turned to him, "...and yet, I saw it with my own eyes."  
Lydia sighed. She could still feel his disgust as it crept across her skin, poking little holes every time he spoke to her. And yet she wanted to gain this mans approval.  
"I'm sorry Professor." She said lightly.  
He looked at her, an eyebrow raised incredulously.  
"And what are you sorry for?"  
"For trying to cast Fiendfyre, when I knew it was idiotic. I'm sorry for disappointing you, and not being a better witch."  
His snarky facade lifted slightly and he sighed - looking more exhausted than Lydia had realised.  
"You are not a _terrible _witch, Ms Stone. You do not disappoint me as much as you do anger me."  
Lydia's eyes widened at his remarks. That was almost a compliment. She felt warmer.  
"It angers me that you do not think before you commit to actions. You have potential. That is evident. It is a matter of control that truly is of importance to you. And _listening _to your instructors would benefit you greatly." His sneer returned toward the end of his speech.  
"I would like you to read," he walked towards a shelf at the back of the training room, "this." He said, pulling a book from the depths of the shelves and returning to her.  
Lydia hadn't noticed the amount of books layered on the walls at the back of the room.  
He handed her the book.  
_'Control: the guide to becoming a professional spell-caster'_  
"You will have it finished, and have started the exercises in there by our next lesson."  
Lydia nodded furiously, grateful for any help.  
She glanced around the room - grateful that yet again Dumbledore had put together her own personal classroom of sorts. One side of the room was warded with protective barriers so that she could cast spells to her hearts content - one had a potion making station; and the other was a reading nook of sorts.  
"Professor," she asked, while he eyed her with his usual look of disdain, "do you think the Headmaster will allow me to use this room whenever I please? I'd like to read the other books here and practice my spells more."  
The room was located in the dungeons. And if it could have gotten any colder, it would have. The icy glare that struck his face was one she truly feared.  
"The _Headmaster _will do nothing of the sort!" His words slicing at her as they left him.  
Lydia faltered, "...but..."  
"This is _my _personal brewing room, that I extended for the sake of your lessons. It was with no help of the Headmaster that this was done, so he will not be allowing you to use this room."  
Lydia looked down at the floor. She had offended him again. It seemed hopeless that there would be any way to please him.  
"However," he started, still sounding as though the words leaving him pained him, "I brew in here most nights from 7pm onward. If you keep to yourself, cast silencing charms if you practice, AND do not harm a single page of my books, I will permit you to exist in here after hours."  
Lydia looked up, eyes glittering with happiness, "Thank you, Professor!"  
"Under no circumstances are you to be in here on your own, and you will knock before entering each time. Do I make myself clear?"  
"Yes Professor." She said, slightly taken aback by his abruptness. She thought she was used to his tone, but apparently not.  
"Now, you are dismissed."  
"Oh- ok"

Lydia had never left a room more quickly in her life.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHORS NOTE: OK so because my brain only decided to involve Lockhart now, and not a chapter ago - lets pretend that he was introduced last minute as a teacher at Hogwarts...and that everyone went and got their books/went to the signing one week after starting school. I'M SORRY, I WILL FIX THE CHAPTERS!

The floors were marred with the cluttered sounds of shuffling feet and people squished against people. Flourish and Blotts had never been so alive. The claustrophobic air clung to each and every person with ecstatic electricity as Gilderoy Lockhart made his very deliberate, flashy entrance.  
Lydia was standing at the back of the room, in a slightly less crowded corner. There were less people to suffocate with there.  
She glanced at the faces of all the young girls, grasping their books tight to their chest, swooning over the man as he sauntered into the room. She shook her head.  
_"Well he sure has a way of drawing attention."_  
The girls squealed as he turned, flourishing his cape as he swiveled, and threw a smoldering glance at them all.  
"He really is something, isn't he?" Laughed Abel, coming to stand by her side.  
"_Something _doesn't cover it."  
He nudged her playfully and they both stared like hawks at the gawking crowd. Lydia chuckled, and muttered a, "Oh no," as she watched Lockhart grab Harry from the crowd and shove him into a photo. It was a little cringe-worthy. She felt sorry for poor Harry.  
Harry struggled to escape the claws of Lockhart's greedy hands. His grimace was shoved under his forced smile.

The crowds had dwindled as the day went on. It was late afternoon and Abel and Lydia were rummaging through the clutter; trying to salvage some kind of organisation for the usually immaculate store. Lockhart had signed his last book, _finally _given his last self contained speech, and appeared to be sauntering his way over to them both.  
"Well I say! What an excellent and wondrous day this has been!"  
Lydia laughed a little, "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself Mr Lockhart."  
He paused before her and offered his best shinning smile - "Perhaps you'd do me the great honor of allowing me to take you to dinner?"  
Lydia caught the flash of Abel trying to hold his laughter in, before she stuttered and tried to stop the red flushing in her cheeks, "O-Oh, that really is a lovely offer. But I'm afraid I have to decline. Abel and I already have plans tonight - perhaps another time."  
Lockhart lifted his eyebrow and Lydia couldn't tell if he believed her words or was merely processing them.  
"Ah, well I will definitely be seeing you _another time._"  
Without another word he grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. The press of his lips to her skin made her want to recoil, but she smiled halfheartedly and took her hand back slowly.  
"Farewell." He said, before turning and leaving the store.

"What!" Shouted Abel running over to her and finally letting his laughter loose.  
Lydia couldn't help the snicker that left her - the crinkle of her nose and jolted snort/laugh that left her.  
"That was the most entertaining thing I have ever seen. You just declined a dinner invitation with a wizarding world celebrity. Are you _mad?_"  
Lydia eyed Abel, "Am I mad? Are you _mad!_ He is as arrogant as he looks - why would I torture myself with dinner with that man?"  
Abel poked her in the shoulder - hard enough that she still felt her skin stinging from the press of his finger - "Because," he said, "You could be his famous witch partner! You could adventure all over the world with him! Think of all of the things he has seen!"  
Lydia walked away, heading to the counter to start packing up her things, "Do you really think he has done all of those things? Have you read his books Abel?"  
"No," he shouted, and she heard his footsteps coming closer behind her, "Have you read them?"  
She turned to him, "I've read one page. That was enough. He seems all talk."  
"Come on, he is good looking though."  
Lydia rolled her eyes, "He really is an arrogant arse if you ask me."  
Abel sighed and his shoulders deflated, with them went his excitement.  
"OK. Well, we are definitely going to have some drinks tonight. After the day we have had today, we deserve it. Maybe I can find a suitor for you there." He added, chuckling.  
Lydia glared at him, "What's with you all of a sudden trying to set me up? And not even having good taste, might I add."  
It was Abel's turn to roll his eyes, "Can't have you living out the rest of your life as the crazy witch with a thousand cats. Have to start somewhere."

The Three Broomsticks was quite crowded. Lydia hadn't realised that they would be so busy - she didn't like large crowds.  
Abel nudged her, "Come on."  
They managed to find a table and took a seat - Lydia slid her long black overcoat off her shoulders and over the chair.  
"You actually do look nice today," said Abel as he took his seat.  
Lydia scoffed, "As a pose to other days?"  
"That's not what I mean. You always look nice, but green suits you." He gestured to the embroidered dark green shirt that she wore. It was quite snug and hugged her form nicely. It was one of the first items of clothing she had bought when she came to the wizarding world.  
That day she had paired it with a black skirt that ended just above her knees. She liked it too.  
"Thanks, Abel."  
"Oh I wasn't saying it for the sake of a compliment. I have a feeling Lockhart noticed how nicely your outfit today suited you too."  
If she had a drink she would have thrown it at him.  
"You're buying the first round." She ground out.  
His laughter was swallowed by the swell of voices in the room as he walked toward the bar.

Lydia had been waiting a while for Abel to return. It wasn't his fault, the line at the bar was enormous. She was glad he had gone to get the drinks.  
Her thoughts drifted to the new year and what her studies would entail. She had spent almost the entirety of the break practicing everything. As much as she could. From botched potions, to failed charms, she practiced it. Over and over. Any other spare time she had was spent engulfed in magical books - one in particular contained rune magic.  
She found it fascinating. It felt like the origins of her magic, something that she felt like every first year should have basic knowledge of. But when she had asked around she found that even the simplest of Rune spells were difficult to cast. So students were educated about them, but not necessarily taught how to cast rune magic.  
It was something she wanted to practice casting. But she still had so much to learn - yet to master even basic defensive spells.  
She huffed - a piece of stray hair that dangled from her fringe moved with the puff of air.

"Such a beautiful face should not look so upset now, should it?"  
Lydia was jolted from her thoughts at the voice, "Lockhart? What are you doing here?"  
"It seemed as fate would have it, I was also thirsty and in need of a drink tonight. And you are alone, it would be a crime to let such a stunning young woman sit alone."  
Lydia paled. Where the hell was Abel?  
"Oh, uh, my friend is at the bar - he will be back soon."  
Lockhart rounded the table, and moved to sit in Abel's chair - smirking at her all the while.  
"I could join you until he returns though, could I not?"  
Lydia's eyes darted.  
And they finally landed on dark eyes that met her own, and black billowing robes moving toward her.  
Gilderoy was staring obsessively at Lydia - with an almost loving look in his eyes and she wanted to hurl. Her black eyed, robe billowing savior came to stand directly behind Lockhart. It was like an enormous shadow overcame the entirety of the room. She could see the colour drain from Lockhart's face as the silky, articulate and terrifying voice of Severus Snape met his ears.  
"I believe that seat is taken, _Lockhart._"  
Lockhart moved from the seat just as quickly as the words left Snape's mouth. He smiled to the Professor.  
"Ah, Professor Snape. So good to see you. Why, I was just offering this lonely young woman my obviously needed company."  
"Of course you were." Sarcasm dripping from his lips.  
"Since you have decided to grace our school with your teaching presence, it would be prudent of you to stop attempting to _romance _the students. Wouldn't you agree, Ms Stone?"  
Lydia was surprised to hear that Lockhart would be teaching at the school, but didn't let herself think on it for long.  
"I would agree, Professor."  
Lockhart's eyes nearly fell from his head.  
"Y-You're a student?" He exclaimed, nearly knocking the table over.  
"Yes." Was all she said.  
And apparently that's all she needed to tell him because he quickly excused himself and fled the bar.  
Lydia couldn't help the smile that she offered to Professor Snape.  
"Aw, what a shame. He didn't stay long enough to find out how old I was." She said.  
Snape tilted his head, a smirk sneaking its way onto his face, "It would be smart of you to leave him none the wiser."  
She softly nodded, "Thank you for coming to my rescue."  
He lifted an eyebrow.  
"I was preventing yet another scandal from tainting the walls of Hogwarts. No need to thank me."  
Then he left.

"So, I couldn't really see too well from the bar. But WHAT did I just miss?"  
Lydia hid her face behind her hands, "Lockhart conveniently appeared as soon as you left, tried to 'keep me company,' and then Professor Snape rescued me."  
Abel sat down, placing a large tray of drinks on the table as he did.  
"You mean that jerk Professor you're always telling me about?"  
Lydia frowned, "He...isn't a jerk. He is really horrible sometimes, but he's not a jerk."  
"You already sound drunk." Said Abel.  
Lydia laughed, and moved to pick up one of the drinks, "So, could you tell me why you have brought so many drinks back with you?"  
He smiled cheekily and took a sip of his own.  
"It's the night before you go back to your classes and disappear on me. You need to get drunk with me. That's an order."  
She whipped her head, "I believe I am the one who gives the orders."  
"Nope. Not here you're not. Now drink up. BIG day tomorrow - you have to avoid your new boyfriend in that big castle."  
"Right." She said, taking a few bigger sips than she had been.


	8. Chapter 8

On the smallest street of Hogsmeade village, tucked away under flickering starlight; where fallen snow had barely covered the ground - a usually lively street of wizarding families was deathly quiet.  
There were no mischievous children cluttering the footpaths, no parents calling for their return - just an eerie silence.  
The Aurors noticed the pull of darkness as soon as they stepped foot on the abandoned street. They noticed that some doors were left ajar with blood trickling across the entryway. They noticed the smell of _lifelessness._  
Shaklebolt and Tonks were the first to arrive at the scene. They had received a distress call and left headquarters immediately, but as they walked across the silent street, searching the area, they felt that they were too late.  
Tonks was the first to enter the first dilapidated house. The blood stained floors creaked under her step as she pushed the door open.  
It was difficult to keep herself from vomiting.  
Every inch she made toward the tormented forms tormented her. Kingsley reacted the same way. He grasped the wall, holding his hand over his mouth as though it might keep his stomach from upsetting.  
"W-Who could have done this?" Stuttered Tonks, kneeling by the lifeless body of a child, "Why would someone do this?"  
Kingsley straightened, "We know exactly who is capable of something like this. It is far worse than we expected. We need to tell the others."

The emergency meeting was quick. They had found no survivors at the scene, but had a good idea of exactly who was behind it.  
_Deatheaters._  
Fear-filled voices had traced the walls of headquarters and panic erupted across the table. Insults were thrown - disbelief arose - and then as the lull of panic left them in a haze, realisation finally dawned upon them all. The Deatheater's were starting their ritual killings again.  
It had happened once before. The Dark Lord had just begun his rise to fame - barely being known to the world - and as he gathered his followers, they seemingly, of their own accord; took it upon themselves to murder half-blood families and squibs.  
There was a line.  
Children were never harmed until the Dark Lord took his vengeance on Lily and James Potter - and _tried _to kill Harry Potter.  
From that day on they carried out reckless, terrifyingly brutal murders on families within the wizarding world. It was horrifying.  
And now it was starting again.

Chaos erupted across the walls of the great hall. The daily prophet had pages and pages of the destruction that happened in Hogsmeade. It was a little too confronting for some eyes - the terror that Lydia could see spread across some of the younger students faces pulled at her heart. She knew loss. She knew chaos. She knew fear.  
But did they?  
She could tell some students were akin to the kind of shock that the prophet spat at them. Harry, Hermione and Ron did not seem _as _horrified as the others. Though, she could still feel the panic radiating from them.  
She felt panicked too. A calm kind of panic - stretching from her toes and up her neck. A desensitised kind of panic.

A resounding, "Quiet!", made each and every one of them tremble into silence.

Dumbledore stood at the podium, grasping its edges with whitened knuckles.

He cleared his throat, "Please," he started, a softer tone; as though he were using his voice to allay their worries, "Calm yourselves. The news we have heard today is of grave horror, but we must not let that dwindle our spirits. Hogwarts is one of the safest places to be at a time like this. Surrounded by friends, by security - you are protected."  
Lydia noticed some of the pale faces warm at his words. She briefly wondered if any of the students had lost their families in the attack. She dared not ask.  
"Though I assure you that you can feel safe and protected behind these walls, we are allowing students who wish to return home, to do so. Grades will not be affected, and we are offering understanding to those of you that would like to leave. Please refrain from spreading any rumors about this incident. I would like all of you to avoid dwelling on the event, though it is devastating, it would be better for each of you to focus on more positive things."  
With those words he left the stand, and settled back at the table. Lydia watched as Mcgonagall shared a few brief words with him - looking a little pale too. The event had gotten to all of them.  
Lydia mostly felt sorrow. Not fear. Death was a unmovable, undefeatable thing. Her mind lingered on her classmates and what or who they had lost.  
Death remained the same in her world and in this world. Devastating with every life taken.

"Are you guys doing alright?" Asked Lydia - the alert faces of Harry, Hermione and Ron stared back at her.  
"Its all a little terrifying, to be utterly honest with you." Replied Hermione.  
Lydia smoothed her hair from her face and offered a soft smile, "It is isn't it? At least we're surrounded by friends here, like Professor Dumbledore said, and we are safe here too."  
Hermione's mouth twitched into a half-smile.  
"I _hate _Voldemort's stupid Deatheaters!" Piped up Harry angrily.  
The rest of the hall had continued their morning conversations - still panicked - but Lydia could hear a few laughs echoing off the tall walls. Luckily they hadn't heard Harry speak Voldemort's name aloud.  
"It's disgusting," started Lydia, and Hermione nodded in agreement, Harry's attention was still on her too, "Someone like that - people like that - should not be allowed to exist in such a beautiful world."  
For a moment Lydia was saddened by her own words. But it was the truth. There were so many bright, protected children in the school - so many of them had never known such darkness; and that in itself was beautiful. To be blissfully unaware of the despicable lengths that some humans would go to. But now danger was just outside of Hogwarts - horror had arisen - and chaos and panic was all anyone knew that morning.  
Breakfast, that morning, was hard to get through.

**Authors note: Sorry for the jumpy-ness of this chapter... And for the delay in posting! Hope it's enough to get you by - I am currently working on the next part. Sorry if anyone had to put up with the weird format the chapter uploaded in originally…hope its fixed now, haha. Thanks for your support! **


	9. Chapter 9

"Welcome, welcome!" Said Lockhart, as the Slytherin and Gryffindor students filled the room. "Today, in light of recent events, I have been asked to teach you all a few spells for dueling! Obviously I was more than obliged, given my expertise in the subject."  
Everyone finished filing into the room, as Lockhart paced the stage. Lydia kept toward the back, watching from her corner as every single student's eyes lit up at the thought of learning new spells. Lydia was excited too - finally a class where they could practice dueling! She had been working hard on the spells that she researched over the break, and she felt like her class with Professor Snape had helped with her control and power. At least a little if anything. She thought it would be helpful to the students too - maybe it would give them something to feel a little more protected.  
"Now, we will only be using basic spells - and today I will offer you a demonstration," he gestured toward Professor Snape, who was bleeding hatred from his pores, and continued, "I promise, I will leave your Professor Snape in good condition when I'm done. I'll go easy on him today."  
Professor Snape walked toward the duelling stage and lifted his wand from the confines of his robes, "Please," he drawled, "do not refrain from using your _incredible _power on the poor Potions Professor, it wouldn't be right. How about you show them just how powerful you are, Lockhart."  
Lockhart tilted his head and smiled, "Oh, if you insist!"  
They all watched in awe as the famed Lockhart readied his wand against the snarky Potions master. The hair on each neck stood tall and static as they watched Gilderoy taking steps to his end of the stage.  
Lydia was more excited to watch Snape in action. Such rage had radiated from him the moment that Lockhart spoke, and Lydia could feel in her bones that he was about to make a spectacle of the man. This was going to be good.

They each readied their wands. Silence became each and every student.  
Lockhart raised his wand. Lydia heard gasps nearby.  
Just as he opened his mouth to begin casting, Snape articulately shouted, "Expelliarmus!"  
The spell sped through the air and hit Lockhart straight in the chest. The force behind it sent him flying and he tumbled across the stage.  
The Slytherins erupted in a roar of excitement and approval - Snape's expression didn't change in reaction to their appreciation. He just stared on at the crumpled Lockhart.  
Meanwhile, Lockhart scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off, clearing his throat he then said, "Ah, yes I of course let you do that Snape, we had to offer the students a proper demonstration, otherwise I obviously would have won that duel."  
Girls in the front row swooned as he smiled at them.  
Snape replied, "_Obviously." _  
Lydia couldn't help the snicker that left her, among the moderately quiet room.  
Snape caught her eye, and she swore she saw a twitch of his mouth.  
"Perhaps someone more suited to your abilities should duel you, Professor Lockhart. Stone is quite a good spell-caster, perhaps she would be more of a match for you."  
Lydia nearly choked.  
She had not wanted to duel someone today. Especially not the Professor that had tried to pursue her.  
When her anxious eyes darted across the room to meet Snape's, she felt instantly angry. He was smirking at her behind those brown, mischievous, eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was all for his entertainment!  
"I couldn't possibly duel a _woman_! You'd think me barbaric Professor Snape. I couldn't bear to hurt such a young, lovely lady." Cried Lockhart.  
Lydia rolled up the sleeves of her robes.  
"You can go easy on me then." She said, soft and sweet.  
Lockhart had that look on his face. That pompous, self righteous look. Lydia wanted to wipe it from him. And she would. She would make sure Snape knew she was ready for this, she would finally gain some respect from the man.  
She walked to the stage, and heard a loud, "You've got this, Lydia!" From Ron, and a, "Yeah!" From Harry; and then a thud that must have been Hermione hitting them and telling them to be quiet.  
She almost laughed.  
But steeled herself. She had seen some of the chaos that Lockhart had cast, and she was worried of what spell he might just throw at her.  
He was standing at the other end of the stage, just smiling before he got into casting position.  
"How about a demonstration from Ms Stone? I'll allow you to go first."  
Lydia didn't even hesitate. She would force the smug right out of him.  
"Stupefy!" She shouted.  
The spell swizzled through the air, and the surprise didn't last long on Lockhart's face because he managed to block it.  
Then quickly cast, "Expelliarmus!"  
Before Lydia could truly think, she heard herself shout, "Protego!" Her only thoughts behind it were to deflect. Deflect. Deflect. And it happened - she was shielded in an instant, and then Lockhart was once again sent tumbling to the ground.

"I think he has had enough, Ms Stone. Perhaps some younger students may want to have a go at duelling each other and _not _a Professor?"  
Lockhart brushed himself off and nodded vigorously at Snape, "Yes, of course! Good show, Stone. I'm glad I let you show off your abilities, bravo, bravo!"  
Lydia arched her own eyebrow at him in a Snape-like manner and walked herself off the stage. She managed to make her way to the trio who looked at her in glee.  
"You were great!" Said Ron, excitedly.  
Hermione nodded, "Of course she was, she's amazing!"  
Before Harry got to say his piece, his name was called - "Potter! How about you show these Slytherins what you're made of!" Called Lockhart.  
Harry looked determined.

"Do you think he'll be ok?" Asked Hermione.  
Lydia nudged her arm, "I think Harry will be just fine. He seems to know what he's doing when it comes to spells. I could probably take some pointers from him!"  
They both laughed and looked to Professor Snape, who was busy skimming the crowd of Slytherins.  
"Malfoy. Go." Was all he said.

The duel was quite intense to watch. Two young boys who clearly did not like each other displayed it well in their spell-casting.  
Malfoy, of course, cast early and caught Harry off guard. Watching his small frame tumble across the stage pulled at Lydia's heart strings. Though, she was glad Harry got a chance to show everyone he wasn't a pompous brat with no magical talent. Clearly he had a knack for defensive spells.  
He threw a satisfying Rictumsempra at Malfoy - the boy was taken in a whirlwind and dropped to the floor. But when he stood it was like the whole room felt Malfoy's embarrassment and then...his anger.  
"Serpensortia!"  
It felt like it all happened so quickly.  
A snake materialised in front of Harry and began hissing its way toward him.  
At the same time Lydia felt the whispers return, a bombardment, crushing her brain into tiny pieces. She wanted to scream. But she needed to help Harry.  
Before Lydia could even attempt to help him, Snape had begun to cast - but then Lockhart greedily took the center of the stage, cutting off Snape, "Allow me."  
"Alarte Ascendare!"  
Lydia scrunched her eyes, even against the pain she had heard the spell that Lockhart had cast.  
A launching spell? In what possible universe would it be a good idea to launch a snake in the air, in a room full of students?  
Lydia grasped her wand, she knew what spell would get rid of it. But she could barely keep her eyes focused on the now darting snake.

What happened next became a cloud of hisses and Harry's voice pleading with the Snake. Then panic-stricken students, and then dead silence.  
Lydia couldn't remember the complete order.  
As much as the awe of Harry somehow communicating with the snake had caught her attention, the voices were being relentless in their onslaught. Lydia needed to get to Mcgonagall. Somehow, she managed to escape the crowd of children unnoticed. She hoped that her friends would be ok. 


	10. Chapter 10

When Lydia first walked through the doors of Mcgonagall's office she felt nervous. She didn't want to cause panic for Mcgonagall, but her head was pounding - the voices still calling her name over, and over.  
"Are you alright, dear? You look quite pale."  
Lydia attempted a weak smile, and under a quiet voice said, "The voices are back. I think we should see Professor Dumbledore." The words tripped out of her mouth. She wanted to crumple.  
Mcgonagall came to her side and held on to her arm.  
"I will tell Dumbledore for you, first you need to sit down."

The meeting with Dumbledore had calmed her enough - they had retrieved a potion from Pomfrey and it had abated the voices for the time being.  
Lydia suggested that maybe because she wasn't from their world her mind was adjusting to some kind of frequency.  
They had almost laughed at her.  
But then considered it for a brief second.  
Dumbledore had proposed that perhaps it was her magical power - sometimes powerful witches and wizards would experience strange incidents of their magic attempting to communicate with them. But he hadn't heard of it causing pain.

As she sat, clutching her warm cup of tea, mulling over the conversation she had had with Professor Dumbledore and Mcgonagall; Lydia was worried. She had never experienced anything like this before - the pain - the voices, she felt like she was going insane. Was she crazy? Was this how it manifested in this world?  
From what she understood, just because she was in the magic world nothing about her physiology would change - her magical energy may have increased, but everything else was supposed to stay the same.  
She sighed.  
She clutched her forehead and still felt the dull ache.  
Lydia glanced up at the clock ticking away above the entrance, it read just after nine. She decided she had a trip to make, and somebody to see for some advice and help.

The walk to the dungeons was cold but cooling against the aches in her body. She flexed her fingers as she examined the quiet corridor - she was surprised more students weren't trying to sneak around at this time.  
The hall twisted and turned - so dimly lit that at times she swore she could see shadows running along side her, in front of her - hear things behind her. But she knew she was just being paranoid.  
Finally the passageway door to Snape's extended classroom came into view and she breathed a sigh of relief. The dungeon walk was becoming more and more creepy.  
She worried her lip before she lifted her hand to knock.  
She knew her presence annoyed him, but he was her head of house, and one of her mentors...so he could spare some time for her, right?  
She knocked.

"Enter." A deep voice rolled up against the dark wood of the door and it unlocked at his sound.  
Lydia pushed on the now ajar door, closed it behind her and made her way into the room. Her eyes were met with the sight of an almost disheveled Potions Master, who was not wearing his usual dark, billowing robes.  
He wore a white, partially unbuttoned, dress shirt - with sleeves pushed up to his elbows, what seemed like a sweaty brow, and normal black dress pants as he leaned over a bubbling cauldron - stirring in a clockwise motion as blue smoke began to emit from it.  
"Wolfsbane?" She asked timidly.  
He did not look up from the potion just said, "This is not a time for you to gloat about your potions abilities, Stone."  
Lydia wanted to roll her eyes - though, they were still staring at the new image of the Potions Master without his usual dark attire, it had become a little hard for her to look away.  
She managed to pull her gaze, choosing not to say anything else because she could see he was concentrating. Wolfsbane was difficult to brew - she knew that from the most recent essay he had made her write for their private Potions lesson.  
Lydia walked to the far side of the room where books upon books were littered across the shelves, and lifted her hand to run her fingertips over them. She loved to read.  
One title caught her eye '_Advanced Potion Making for Advanced Minds, by Severus Snape.' _Lydia couldn't help herself. She pulled it from the shelf, a sheen of dust coming with it - she almost sneezed, but shivered instead.  
She felt like a fool. She had enjoyed the cool of the air, soothing her aches on her walk to the Dungeon. But now that she was there, in the ice cold classroom, she was freezing. She had chosen to wear a light blue sundress - a pretty old thing she just had for warmer weather. The thought at the time was that it would be cooling. Too cool it seemed.  
She tried to shake off the cold - chancing a glance at the Professor who was now stirring in an anti-clockwise motion. Which meant he would be done in another half an hour or so. She could wait out the cold.  
She took a seat at one of the desks in the corner, facing away from him and opened up the giant textbook.  
She smoothed a hand down one of the pages as though she were trying to absorb the information with it. She wished.  
The first chapter was dedicated to potent ingredients and where to find them, and how they could help or hinder a potion. The book was truly awe inspiring. The amount of research and years of experimenting that he must have done truly was incredible. Lydia began reading the chapter greedily.

Lydia couldn't have been sure how much time had passed while she absorbed every line of the first chapter. The only reason she had even been pulled from the thralls of the book was because someone was standing directly behind her.  
A deep voice had said her name, not once, but _twice.  
_"Ms Stone!"  
She looked up sharply to the glare of Severus Snape. She shivered. This time it wasn't from the cold.  
"S-Sorry, Professor." She said and closed the book before getting up from the chair.  
He stalked his way back to the potion that he had bottled and moved the vials into a small chest on his desk.  
"I can see you are here for more than just study. Ask what you would like to ask." He said before turning back to her and casually leaning against the desk.  
Lydia walked closer to him, "How did you know I wanted to ask something?"  
He glared.  
"Right," She laughed nervously, "Ok-well..."  
"Spit it out Stone!"  
Lydia huffed.  
"OK. I don't know if Dumbledore has spoken to you. I have been having these strange attacks...voices suddenly are in my mind, at my ears, yelling or whispering - I don't know anymore. It becomes debilitating, and begins to cause me pain, and well they eventually dissipate."  
"I see." Was all he said, staring at her through curious eyes.  
"I was wondering if you knew of a potion or a technique...something to help get rid of the voices." She softly said.  
There was silence for a few moments. Lydia could hear him take a deep breath and examined his face under the flickering candlelit room. He looked intrigued. And for a moment...concerned.  
"The Headmaster didn't have any thoughts on what may be causing it?"  
"No, not really. He said that perhaps it was my magical energy."  
"Hmm." Was all he said, as he stared into her azure eyes.  
It was unnerving.  
"Is there no history of mental illness in your family?" He questioned. A quiet, polite question - not accusatory, like she would have expected.  
Lydia stared at the ground.  
"There could be. I was orphaned at a young age. So, I don't know."  
Snape cleared his throat, "I'd like to try something, if that's alright with you?"  
Lydia lifted her gaze, "Of course, I'll try anything at this point."  
"I'm sure you'll regret that answer."  
Lydia wrapped her arms around herself and followed him to the table that he gestured to. He pulled out a chair for her, and then dragged one so that it faced her chair. She took a seat.  
She nearly jumped out of her skin as something soft and warm gently wrapped around her shoulders. Snape was still standing in front of her, but smirking at her reaction.  
"I would not like to be blamed for Dumbledore's _favourite_ student catching their death in the Dungeons. Do remember to bring a jacket next time, Stone."  
As he took a seat before her she realised that he had used wandless magic to summon his robe to keep her warm. It smelled of herbs and spices and her body tingled with a warm tremor.  
He cleared his throat again.  
"I will assume you are aware of the art of Legilimency?"  
Lydia nodded.  
"I believe if this is a mental problem I could find the source - if it is mental illness. If it is something else, I may find that too, or I may find nothing at all. I have developed my own techniques in Legilimency, perhaps we will find an answer."  
"Ok."She said, staring ahead. He was close and she was scared. What would he find in her mind?  
"For this to work, you will need to open your mind completely to me," He arched a brow, "It shouldn't be hard for you, considering how readable your expression is."  
Lydia glared. As much as she didn't like Snape, he was trying to help her, and he had been relatively nice to her of recent. She trusted him. Even though Harry still swore Snape was almost as evil as the Dark Lord himself, Lydia felt something from the man. Felt the good in him. So she trusted him.  
"Lets just start."She huffed.  
Snape was close. Now in mind too. Lydia knew he was about to attempt to enter her mind, and just to spite him, and his comment, she put up a wall to block him.  
Of course she had researched Legilimency. It was one of the first books she devoured, and first things she had practiced when she arrived at Hogwarts. Now was the perfect time to practice Occlumency - with a master.  
Though, she did not think it would work.  
But as her wall went up, Snape exited her mind and looked furious for a second, then he did what looked like an almost laugh.  
"You really do enjoy showing off, don't you." His sentence didn't have as much venom as usual.  
"Alright. Point proven. You're not as readable as I suggested. Now, please stop wasting my time."  
Lydia mentally rolled her eyes and waited for him to enter her mind.  
"Just to be clear," he readied himself, "IF you attempt to occlude me again I will break through. It is not a pleasant feeling."  
Lydia gulped, and nodded.  
And that was it.  
Some memories flooded to the forefront of her mind - she figured they were the ones he was sifting through. She couldn't completely understand what he was doing. It was more of a glimpse or a feeling, like someone sitting by your side flicking through pages of a familiar book.  
_"He could probably do this without alerting me of his presence in my head."  
"Correct." _His voice said, resounding in her mind.  
Lydia tried hard to not focus on anything in particular. Just let everything be as open as she could. It wasn't long before it was over, and she was leaning quite close to the Professor - his own aroma now enveloping her and not just the one of his robe.  
He seemed perplexed as he stared into her conscious eyes and not subconscious mind.  
"What is it?" She questioned, curious to know if he had found anything.  
"Nothing at all. Though, I can assure you there were no signs of mental illness."  
Lydia knew the disappointment was evident on her face, and she knew he felt it when the soft, "Oh," left her.  
He stood from the chair and placed it back in its spot, and then walked back to his desk. Lydia, after a few brief moments, did the same, clutching the robe after the chair was back in its place.  
When she turned back around he was standing behind her again, hand outstretched - but startled her for the _third _time that night.  
"You really should open your ears, Stone."  
He stretched his hand out and she saw three vials filled with liquid.  
"These should help with the attacks. If there is any pain associated, take the blue one. Take the other two at the first onset of the voices. You will be brewing these for yourself in our next potions lesson, so I suggest you familiarise yourself with the ingredients."  
Her brow furrowed.  
"Professor..._How _will I know what ingredients to use if you haven't told me what the potions are?"  
He scoffed and folded his arms across his chest.  
"You can recognise Wolfsbane without me telling you, I have the utmost belief that you can work out what has been used in these potions."  
Sarcasm really was what defined Professor Snape. She couldn't really feel angry with him either. He had helped her. He had taken time to give advice, and he gave her potions to help. It was more than what anyone else had done, so she was grateful.  
"Thank you, Professor." She said and parted her lips in a grateful smile.  
He rose his brows in surprise, "E-hem," he coughed, "You are welcome. Take this." He said, then suddenly his potion textbook that she had been devouring appeared before her.  
"You seemed to be enjoying it. It will provide useful for your assignment."  
"Thank you." She grasped it tightly. Without it she would have been lost. She knew her potions, but in brewing context - not by the colour or texture of a finished vial of liquid.  
She nodded and turned to leave, but then remembered his robe was still draped around her shoulders.  
"Oh," she started and pulled it from her shoulders, "Thank you for this too. I almost forgot to give it back."  
"You can wear it while we walk back to your cabin."  
"W-What?" She asked, panicked.  
"As I am sure you haven't observed, it is after midnight. It would be unprofessional of me to let you walk alone back to your cabin. As safe as the school may be."  
Lydia gulped. It was a long walk.  
"Alright." She whispered.

The grounds were peaceful as wind drifted lightly across empty pathways, and empty halls. They had just exited the castle, in complete silence, and a normally snow piled ground was only light with the last drizzles of snowflakes as the season left them.  
Lydia looked out over the moonlit hills, and shimmering lake - watched as the trees danced, and the sky sang with starry light, and just _breathed. _  
Hogwarts was mesmorising.  
"You're quiet." Chimed Snape, breaking her reverie.  
Lydia thought that it was out of character for him. He should be happy to be free of her pertinent questions.  
"I enjoy the silence." She answered, keeping her head tilted and gazing at the sky. It was something she had always been entranced by. It was truly the first sign of anything magical to her.  
"Silence is enjoyable." He said back, dark waves of sound surrounded her ears in the quiet air. His voice seemed deeper.  
And then she tripped.  
It wasn't going to be a life threatening tumble to the ground. No. She just missed the small step before her, her foot searching for earth; expecting it to be there. But instead she began a small, yet ungraceful descent with her outstretched foot, and before she could stumble back to balance, Snape had caught her hand in one of his, and his other held her shoulder - her back close to his, but she was twisted to the side, able to see the annoyance on his face.  
"S-Sorry." She uttered into the silence.  
She uttered to the sound of her thundered heartbeat.  
She uttered to the skin of his calloused hand as it brushed the soft curve of her own.  
He straightened and let go.  
"Perhaps you should keep your eyes ahead of you, instead of lost in the clouds."  
And then he walked ahead of her under the quiet starlight.


	11. Chapter 11

The steam floated from the boiling cauldron and clung to his face as he added the last of the ingredients to his potion. It was getting late. But this was the last batch he had left to make for his monthly shipment, and it wouldn't be too long before he was done.  
The quiet knock to the door wasn't what had alerted him to her presence. No. The moment she began through the passageway the wards had let him know.  
So when Lydia Stone walked into his brewing room, he did not look up straight away. He was focused. He had to stir four more rotations clockwise before he dared to acknowledge her existence in his room.  
Then she spoke.  
Impatient brat.  
"Wolfsbane?" She had asked him.  
It was in an annoyingly sweet, yet hesitant tone. She was just trying to make conversation, but she had spoken when he was clearly concentrating.  
So he bit out a snarky remark, chancing a single glance at her as she stayed quiet and sifted through his books in that ridiculous, inappropriate blue dress.  
His gaze had lingered for longer than he liked.  
She was stretching to one of the higher shelves, having just skimmed the titles and held one of _his _books in her hands.  
She was almost so illuminated under glowing light that he could have called her - no - he willed the foreign thought from his head, and continued with his potion; as she made her way to a desk and settled.

When Snape finally finished his potion he slowly crept over to the young girl invading his current space.  
She was rapaciously _devouring _his book, from what he could see - already most of the way through the first chapter, and so he phrased a snide, "Enjoying yourself, then?"  
She didn't reply.  
"Ms Stone?" He repeated, walking to meet the back of her chair, and glancing down from above.  
"Ms Stone!" He said again, frustrated that he had to raise his voice for the hundredth time that day.  
When she startled from her trance she apologised quickly, batting azure eyes at him. He just huffed, and walked back to his desk.  
He knew she had questions.  
The chamber of secrets had been reopened. Which meant chaos was about to ensue. He was sure she would be involved in whatever shenanigans the Potter brat and friends would get up to. He wondered if Potter had told her of the Chamber of Secrets. He knew that Potter knew - thanks to Legilimancy - but he wasn't sure exactly how much the meddling child knew.  
So he played dumb and asked her what she wanted - he led her to a chair with the intent of perusing her mind to placate her, yet he found something quite interesting.  
She knew not that she had opened herself completely to him. Had she forgotten that he could delve into the darkest parts of her mind and see whatever he pleased to see?  
He now knew Jeremy. And he knew the pain that she had experienced in that moment. Snape had also seen the extraordinary power that had presented itself in that moment. Though it was too late, the girl had healed him with no wand or no concept of how to use her magic. _Intriguing._  
He wondered if the Headmaster knew of her unusual magical ability. It was a daft question. Of course he did.  
When Snape began perusing her mind he had not expected to find much. He was proven wrong. There, in the deepest depth of her mind was what appeared to be a locked box - a wall - a cage; he could not access it.  
Perhaps that was where the so called voices she spoke of were coming from.  
Perhaps the chamber of secrets was taunting her in some way. He couldn't be sure. But what gnawed at him now was an impossible barrier that he _needed _to know what was hidden behind.  
She must have glimpsed the slight change in his expression when she asked him if he had found anything.  
He quickly covered it up, and shrugged off the comment. She would panic if he told her what he had found, and now he found himself wondering if it were something the other Death Eaters had orchestrated as a way of infiltrating the girls mind. He had found many questions with no answers. It wasn't often that Severus Snape became frustrated, but alas, he was.

Snape had been surprised at the girls willingness to learn everything magically possible in her time at Hogwarts. He hated to admit it but the young Slytherin was becoming quite talented - not that he would ever tell her. He still despised her ineptitude and complete lack of control when it came to impulse. His blood _still_ boiled at the Fiendfyre incident.  
But if he were honest, she had potential. Her Potion brewing skills were of an exemplary manner, and he knew she had a knack for spell casting. It would just take her time.  
So when Ms Stone had practically devoured his very own book on Potion making, he was almost flattered. Well, the closest he could come to feeling flattery. He would never admit it though.

They wandered through the quiet halls of Hogwarts. The night air was brisk and biting through the Dungeon corridors. The idiot girl hadn't even brought an overcoat. Normally he would not care to walk a student back to their dormitory - in her case, her little house - but Stone had an unusually specific way of getting herself into trouble. It almost always ended up being in some kind of life threatening way. Snape didn't want to get the blame for Dumbledore's precious pet losing her life. Who knew what Malfoy had planned for her. So he accompanied her.  
They were almost by the small cabin.  
He could see it glowing in the distance.  
She had been walking just a few steps in front of him - carelessly staring up at the sky.  
Of course she tripped.  
The ungraceful - out of nowhere kind.  
Snape's reflexes betrayed him and reached out instinctively. He would have liked to see her fall. But instead he grasped her arm - felt the flutter of her pulse radiating from her wrist - and she turned back to him wide eyed.  
His breath had surreptitiously hitched - the cold air gnawing at his lungs - all while the hypnotic hue of colour in her surprised eyes froze him.  
The soft skin of her wrist jolted him from his haze and he let go - she had stabilised. Then he left her, trotting full force toward her cabin.

_"What was that?" _He thought, later that night.  
She hadn't said anything else to him, apart from a light - goodnight - and he just nodded before billowing away.  
It wasn't often that Severus Snape was caught off guard.  
In fact, it was never.

That night the Potions Professor of Hogwarts did not find his way to sleep. It was going to be a _long_ week.

**Authors note: Thank you to my new followers! Every time I see a new follower for this story it brightens my day! (And also to my reviewers – you keep me going!)  
OK. I know this was short…..I can either add a little Hogwarts ball in the next chapter….or perhaps an interesting death eater meeting.  
OR BOTH  
Probably just one though…ANYWAY – what do you guys think? Or shall I surprise you? **


	12. Chapter 12

Lydia was worried. It was the first time she had been unprepared for a quiz and of course it had to be Mcgonagall's class. She sat there chewing her nails anxiously as she thought of answers to the paper. She had been so preoccupied with Professor Snape's book that week that she had completely forgotten about today's quiz.  
Her stomach dropped.  
She knew she could at least pass. But Mcgonagall would be expecting a lot more from her. She hated disappointing people.

"Hey, Lydia! How are you going?" Called Hermione from behind her.  
Lydia had been walking to the large oak tree by the lake and turned swiftly, smiling at Hermione as she jogged over to meet her.  
"Hermione, hey! It's good to see you. I'm alright, thanks. How's this week treating you?" Asked Lydia.  
"As well as it can be after Mcgonagalls quiz."  
"Oh - you did it today too? I'm sure I did terribly on it, I wish I was better prepared." Lydia said - turning to take a seat under the shade of the tree.  
Hermione joined her while eyeing her suspiciously.  
"...You're obviously joking, right? You'd never do terribly, you're so smart!"  
Lydia chuckled, and shrugged her shoulders, "Thanks, Hermione. And i'm sure you did very well too. Everyone knows you're the smartest witch in your grade."  
The young girl beamed brightly up at Lydia.  
A silence ensued - both girls drifting into their own thoughts.

"How have you three been? Sorry I haven't had much time to catch up with you all, my extra classes have been a little time consuming - work too." Asked Lydia, breaking the quiet.  
Hermione shrugged - "We've been good. Harry has been acting a little strange. I'm not sure if you remember exactly what happened in dueling class the other day?"  
Lydia straightened, "What do you mean?"  
"Well...I know you were ill, but when you left, Harry wasn't just hissing nonsense at the snake. We discovered he is a Parselmouth."  
Lydia stuttered over words, "You mean he can communicate with snakes?"  
Hermione nodded.  
"We don't really know what it means. But I have a bad feeling about it. Harry hasn't been sleeping well, and he keeps hearing voices."  
Lydia worried her lip, "I can't believe he's been going through this. I'm so glad he's had you both to help him - if there is anything I can do to help him, please let me know." She said to Hermione, who looked just as dejected as she did.  
"Thanks, Lydia. Maybe one day you could try to talk to him about it - I just feel like he's not telling us something."  
Lydia nodded.  
Hermione fumbled with her books - as though she were getting ready to get up.  
"Going so soon? Am I that boring?"  
Hermione laughed, "Not at all! I've decided i'm going to try and go cheer Harry up by forcing him to help me choose a dress for tonight's dance!"  
Lydia furrowed her brow, "Dance?...tonight?"  
Hermione gasped, "YOU forgot?"  
Lydia shrugged...the dance had been the last thing on her mind, "I suppose it slipped my mind. But, I know, it's compulsory."  
"What's your dress look like?" Asked Hermione, excitedly.  
Lydia had an awkward expression on her face - not realising she had let her embarrassment slip out - and Hermione brought her hand to her mouth in shock.  
"You don't have a dress!"  
Lydia laughed - watching the teen hyperventilate over her was endearing.  
"Calm down - I can pick something up on my way back from work this afternoon!"  
Hermione stood, placing her hands on petulant hips, "Lydia Stone, you better have a dress for tonight, and you better be there - on time!"  
Lydia frowned, "I'll be there."  
"Don't have to sound so disappointed!"  
"I'm not disappointed. I promise. I will see you tonight, bells and all!"  
Hermione giggled, mumbled a quick goodbye and looked like she wanted to skip away. But she walked. Lydia thought it was funny how quickly her mood had changed. She was probably excited to try and get Harry's mind off the voices - Lydia thought it would help him too. She vaguely wondered if Harry was experiencing the same voices she was. Could they be related?  
They were thoughts for much later, because it appeared Lydia needed to drag Abel dress shopping, and she did not have much time.

Lydia eyed herself in the mirror. She was in absolute and complete awe of the dress that Abel had chosen for her. She had never imagined herself wearing something so incredibly intricate and astonishingly beautiful.  
The deep blue of the dress brought out the blue of her eyes, the tight bodice of the dress hugged her form and dipped in at the waist, then fanned out in soft elegance as it just brushed the floor. She felt like a princess.  
Her hair was braided half up and away from her face, while the rest was left out in long waves to cascade over her shoulders. Abel had suggested the hair style. She was just going to leave it in her usual braid, but he had chastised her the moment the words left her mouth.

The second she stepped through the doors of the great hall was like something she had never experienced. Soft violins played intricate melodies that hugged the walls, but the once crowded form of voices had all come to a halt as she stepped through the doors.  
Her heartbeat was striking her chest like she had just run a marathon. _Everyone _was looking at her. She felt like Slytherin himself had slowed time just to taunt her. She could hear some of the whispers about how incredible she looked – and she appreciated it. Lydia just didn't like to be stared at in silence.  
Thankfully her joyous trio found her and bombarded her with greetings – loud enough that it knocked everyone from their reverie and they stopped staring.

"You look so amazing!" Cried Hermione, grabbing her hands and squeezing.  
Ron and Harry were vigorously nodding in agreement, but somehow had forgotten how to use their words.  
Lydia laughed, "Thank you for saving me," She started, "I thought they would never stop staring!"  
Hermione giggled, "I can imagine it would have been quite uncomfortable! Where did you get the dress?"  
Lydia smoothed her hands down it and glanced at the skirt brushing the floor, "A dear friend chose it for me. Had I known he was going to be this extravagant with his choice, I probably wouldn't have let him choose it."  
"Nonsense, my dear!" She heard from behind her.  
She turned around.  
Professor Dumbledore and Mcgonagall had entered together and were shining bright smiles at her, "You look wonderful!" Said Dumbledore.  
Mcgonagall nodded and smiled, "Lovely, dear."  
Lydia shyly smiled at them and nodded a thank you as they made their way to the Professor's table.  
"Come sit with us!" Said Harry excitedly.  
As they took their seats at the table Lydia chanced a glance around the room. It seemed like all of the Professors were there, enjoying themselves. Apart from one. It definitely didn't bother her though.  
"So," She began, eyeing Harry and Ron, "Where are your dates for tonight, boys?"  
The question sent them bright red – Ron a little more than Harry as he coughed and sputtered on the drink he had been sipping, "No dates…we just came to have some fun! Our year never gets invited to dances!" He exclaimed.  
Lydia nodded as she leant on her hand, "Oh yeah….So there's no one here that you fancy?"  
It was Lydia's turn to be nudged by Hermione, "We're far too young to be fancying anyone – don't you think?"  
Lydia laughed, "Right, right…sorry."  
Her answer seemed to calm the boys, who looked like they were both about to explode with embarrassment.  
Sometimes she felt like an older sister to them – sometimes she liked to taunt them. They were good kids.

Unfortunately the night dragged on. Lydia was essentially at a children's ball. She wished she could have a glass of wine – but she knew it would be inappropriate to drink in front of her classmates. She should set an example.  
She was jealous of the Professors as they each sipped at their red wine, white wine, and whatever other concoctions they held in their hands.  
Lydia had made her way to a secluded section of the Great Hall – a small alcove with pillars that she could hide behind. Privacy. She just needed a little. Lydia wasn't used to this much socialising.  
Her eyes scanned over the smiling faces of all of her classmates as they danced away with every ounce of energy they had. It was heart-warming. Especially watching Ron try to pull off some pretty…difficult dance moves. He succeeded somewhat. It appeared as though he was successful in entertaining the others, they were laughing loudly.  
She hadn't realised how late it was getting. For her anyway.

"AH, fate must truly be in my favour tonight."  
_ .no.  
_Lydia swivelled quickly to see none other than Professor Lockhart examining her with great interest.  
"Hi…_Professor_." She said, frantically praying for an escape.  
"You are looking quite dashing tonight." He said, stepping closer to her.  
_Nope.  
_"Professor. It's nice to see you. Hope you are enjoying yourself with the other students as much as myself."  
He seemed to pull at his collar, finally remembering he was surrounded by students, and that she was one herself.  
Lydia thought she had won.  
"Perhaps you'd like to accompany me for a walk?"  
She laughed, "Perhaps I would not. So sorry Professor, but I'm afraid I was about to say goodnight to my friends. Please excuse me."  
She had never half-danced quicker into a crowd. Thank god the trio had stayed late.  
Lydia felt a little guilty. Perhaps under that smug, vein exterior he was actually lonely. But flirting unabashedly with every woman he came across was a little deterring, to say the least.

The walk back to her cabin was a peaceful one. They had each gone their separate ways – some students choosing, (and some Professors), to stay and dance until the late hours of dawn. Well, she thought that was where they were headed.  
Lydia was not much of a partier. Not one for crowded rooms either. But she had to admit, she had had some fun.  
It had been a nice evening.  
Outside was lovely too. The night sky was filled with clouds and rain had just started to fall softly. She loved the sound of rain. And how it felt as the first few drops touched her skin. It had started as a few.  
Now it was getting harsher.  
She wanted to laugh – her beautiful dress was going to get completely soaked!  
Lydia lifted the skirt of her dress and tried to walk a little faster. The footpath was a little slippery, but she was careful. She laughed aloud as the rain began pounding down. She became drowned in the downfall. It was almost liberating.  
Her home emitted a warm glow – she had left the fire going before she left, so it would be cosy when she returned. She felt at ease as she neared it – though her steps were quick, her mind was slow as it admired the beautiful home she had been given.  
She walked down the stone steps, followed by the footpath that led through her wards and to her front door. Half walked, half ran.  
It was a quick trip.  
She had trotted up to the door, and nearly slipped in rainwater.  
"_That was close." _She thought.  
She looked down – noticing that she had slightly torn the edge of her dress when she stumbled – but then gasped at something more alarming.  
The puddle hadn't been rainwater.  
It was _blood._  
Time pulled at her motions, and she could do nothing but move deathly slow. Her hands shook as she held tightly onto the key in her hand and slowly began to follow the trail. She stepped.  
The blood had trailed down the slope that led to her front door, but was coming from around the side of her cabin.  
She followed it, "H-Hello?" She called, panicked. Her wand was inside.  
A bloody hand suddenly emerged, creeping slowly across the stone wall of her home and leaving a bloody trail in its wake.  
She froze.  
Her chest heaved and she gulped down air.  
Then a black mass emerged, coughing blood at her, and gripped the wall like it was a lifeline.  
"P-Professor!"


	13. Chapter 13

The rain was pummelling the roof of Lydia's cabin. She struggled, immensely, to hold Professor Snape and walk him to her couch. He was heavy. And _bleeding._ She felt like a storm was brewing outside, and it was so loud she thought her walls were going to cave in.  
"Stay with me, Professor," She said, groaning as she tried to lightly put him on the couch without hurting him.  
She watched as he winced, leaning back against the pillows and breathing heavily.  
Lydia's hands were shaking. There was a lot of blood. Her hands were soaked in it and her dress had become closer to crimson than blue.  
"Stone," He tremored.  
She looked up at him, kneeling by his side, "Y-Yes?"  
"I need you to use something and tie it around my stomach. That is where," he coughed – blood spattering on her, "I am bleeding from."  
Lydia's hands still shook, as she stared blankly at him. From what she could see, he was bleeding from multiple places. He had long gashes on his face, a tear in his trousers where blood oozed down his ankle, and his robes were soaked – black but a red tinge reflected back at her in almost every spot.  
Lydia shook her head, _"Come on, pull yourself together." _  
She scrambled to her feet, kicking the dress out from under her feet – she wished she wasn't in such a humungous mass of material.  
She rushed to her bedroom and stripped her bed – pulling the sheet off – she used her wand to cast a spell to slice the sheet in half and as she was rushing back to the Professor, she stopped, "I'm such an idiot!"  
She dropped the sheet and quickly went back to his side – his eyes were closed, but a grimace was still etched on his features.  
She gently let her wand sit on his stomach – about to cast Vulnera Sanentur_ – _but he grabbed her hand, vice-like. She gasped and dropped her wand, as he said, "No spells. Just stop the bleeding so we can use your floo."  
"To where?"  
"Stop the bleeding!" He hissed, and she tripped over her dress as she scrambled for the sheet.  
She managed to lift him slightly, forcing him to lean on her as she pulled the sheet around him and then tightened it across his stomach.  
He twitched as she tightened the knot – she could see the pain fighting to be on his face. He was too proud to let her see too much of it.  
She momentarily wondered why she couldn't use her wand to heal him. Had he been cursed? And if so, what kind?  
He was still breathing heavily. Why did she have to be the one to find him?  
"Professor…" she started quietly, and he only stared at her blankly – acknowledging that she had spoken, but not saying anything, "I think you should let me go get help."  
He still stared.  
Seconds passed.  
Lyida's eyes were pleading but still no response.  
Then, "No. Do you have any of the potions left that I gave you?"  
Lydia's brow furrowed, but she nodded slowly, "Yes. A red one…" She trailed off as she remembered one of the ingredients she had researched in the potions that he gave her had tissue healing properties.  
"It will help?" She asked.  
He breathed, "Yes."  
Lydia pushed herself from his side – still covered in a blood tattered dress. The dress was becoming the bane of her existence as she kicked the skirt out of the way, nearly tripping _again _and angrily hurried to find the potion.

She tilted his head.  
Her thumb brushed the side of his face as she said softly, "Drink."  
He glared.  
But he drank it anyway. She knew he felt belittled, weak and ashamed in front of her – like this. But he had come to her for help for some reason, hadn't he?  
He closed his eyes as he swallowed the last of the potion, and then quietly leant back on the couch as her hands let go of him.  
He looked slightly less pale.  
Lydia sat patiently, not wanting to disturb him. He seemed like he was doing better, but she wasn't in any position to say so really. What could have done this to him?  
Who could have?  
"Help me into the floo." He said into the silence.  
Lydia stared at him with worry, "I don't think we should move you just yet."  
"Do as I say!" His voice rose and the anger in his eyes tore at her.  
She nodded, and put her arm under his to help him move from the couch. He huffed and gripped her tighter – clearly his body hadn't been ready to move yet.  
As they made their way to the floo she grabbed some floo powder.  
"Where to?"  
"Spinners End."  
Lydia gripped him tightly, "Spinners End!"

As ungraceful as anyone could be, Lydia fell out of the floo the moment they appeared at Spinners End.  
Not a simple fall. No. A more complex one.  
Snape also fell.  
Lydia used every ounce of energy she had to make sure he fell on her and not the other way around. He let out a grunt as they plummeted to the ground and he landed on her.  
Lucky the dress was so puffy. It offered some cushioning. But he still felt as though he had crushed her when he landed on her.  
"Professor, are you alright?" She wheezed out – looking up at his pained expression – that suddenly turned to fury.  
"Are you an imbecile?" He asked.  
He held himself above her and tried to push himself up. The wound on his stomach had begun bleeding again and the sheet soaked through.  
"I'm sorry…" She started, but turned so she could help him back to his feet. He didn't want an apology. She knew that.  
They got to their feet and he started walking, so she held him and would have been dragged in the direction if she weren't the one holding him up.  
She glanced around the room – it was bare but beautiful. Hardwood floors, bookshelves and what looked like a reading corner.  
Ahead of them was a large open doorframe – where she could see a neat kitchen with a wooden table in the middle of it. The door was just by a large twisting staircase – where she assumed they were heading.  
She _hoped _they weren't.  
Alas, they said nothing, and climbed a thousand stairs together. Each step heavier than the last. That was what it felt like to her weakening body. She chastised herself – if she was feeling exhausted, he had to be feeling much worse.  
She held his side tighter, as they finally tackled the last few steps.  
They hobbled down a long stretching hallway – and Lydia peeked through an open door at an incredibly large and fancy looking bathroom. The bathtub, if that's what you would call it, was almost like a small pool – similar to the Prefects one she had mistakenly found her way into in her first year.  
"Stop snooping." He ground out.  
"I was just looking. You might want to be a little nicer to me, considering I am helping you."  
Then he, somehow, found the energy to push her away, "Go. I don't _need_ you now. My thanks for your assistance."  
He grabbed onto the wall and still made his exit from her look confident.  
Lydia stared for a moment – lips parted, about to speak, but he began struggling to walk without her.  
She said nothing, but made her way back to his side to support him.  
He said nothing.

The end of the hall found a large oak door before them. Lydia reached and turned the knob and they made their way into his bedroom.  
A large four poster bed was in the middle of the room – he had black sheets, black pillow cases, black everything. It was a little morbid.  
A wide window was over to the right of the room, with a small dresser next to it, and on the other side of the window a recliner chair with a green knitted blanket over it. Lydia thought he must spend his mornings there.  
They struggled to get him to the bed – it wasn't as hard as the couch had been though, so Lydia was grateful.  
When he was finally comfortable, propped up with pillows he let out a long breath, "I need to ask something of you." He said.  
"Ok." She said back, willing to do anything to help the man at this point. As stubborn as he was.  
"If you go back downstairs, into the kitchen and then into the cellar – you will find my potions laboratory. There is a book open on the desk – turn to the page that is flagged – and brew the potion."  
"Brew the potion?" Lydia asked, surprised.  
"Yes. Exactly how the book says."  
"Professor, I don't think I should leave you alone right now."  
He pinched the bridge of his nose – accidentally brushing a gash on his face – and heatedly said, "If you do not brew this potion, I will die."  
Lydia almost lost her balance.  
"W-What?" She uttered.  
He removed his hand, and gestured to the door, "If you do not want the responsibility, then leave. You have assisted enough."  
Lydia shook her head, "No, I'll do it."  
She had no other option. He wasn't going to let her get help – he obviously didn't want anyone else involved. Perhaps it was because he did not know who he could trust. She began to wonder if it was even safe there.  
Lydia said nothing else, just turned and started to walk out of the room.  
"Stone." He called.  
She turned back to him, standing just in the door frame.  
"There is a salve next to the book in the lab, please bring that with you once you have set the potion," she nodded and he added a quiet, "…and, thank you."  
Lydia left.

The stairs down to the lab were incredibly unstable. Lydia heard a tear on the skirt of her dress as it caught on something while she went down. At this point she wanted to just rip the dress off. Her mind had been too frantic to even think of bringing something to change into when they had been at her cabin.  
_Idiot._  
Her mind had finally come back to her.  
She couldn't use magic on him, but she felt like a fool not remembering that she could use it on herself. Especially now, in her ridiculously puffy dress.  
She held her wand out, and concentrated. Her mind needed to be centred.  
She cast the spell.  
When she looked down at herself she released a breath she didn't know she was holding in. The puffy dress was gone, and a simple, tattered, blood stained, blue dress clung to her and ended just below her knees. _Better. _  
"Right." She said, then proceeded to make her way through his lab, unobstructed no longer.  
The lab was huge.  
Every wall was lined with ingredients, their names in gold plates underneath them. A large bookshelf was next to the desk and alphabetically had them aligned in categories of potion pranks, to medicinal remedies.  
She found the textbook – dusty – laid out on the desk for her. She noticed, as she peered down at it, that it was hand written.  
_"This must be his personal brewing book." _She thought.  
She found the page that had a folded edge, and turned the book to it.  
Her hand came quick to clasp her mouth, as though she was holding in her gasp, as she read the title at the top of the page.  
_Cure for the Cruciatus.  
"The Cruciatus?"_ Her eyes watered at the thought, _"He was tortured." _  
Lydia knew that this was bad. Most people did not come back from hours of torture – and it was clear he had been tortured for hours. He was not in any state to be moving – yet he had somehow made it to her cabin.  
Her heart thundered. The Cruciatus usually meant Death Eaters. Why were they targeting him? Were they going to target Hogwarts too?  
She huffed. Staring up at a clock hanging just above the cauldron – literally hanging in the air – and gasped. It was 2am. She had to hurry.  
After washing her hands, and pulling her hair up and away from her face, she quickly began gathering all of the ingredients for the potion.

It was fifteen minutes later – she had added the ingredients to the bubbling pot, and had stirred the correct amount of times, holding the text book, she read the next set of instructions.  
_'Leave to settle for half an hour, exactly. Then bottle the potion immediately.  
Do not let any of the potion drop back into the pot, as it will destabilise the rest of the brew."  
_"Ok. Ok yeah, I can do this. It's gonna be totally fine." She said to no one.  
She glanced at the clock, it was 2.20am. She had half an hour to go make sure that he hadn't died while she had been down there.  
She grabbed the salve and made her way back up the stairs.

Well, he was breathing. She quietly stood in the doorway – hesitant to enter – his eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping.  
"The salve, Stone." He said, eyes still closed.  
The sneaky bastard.  
She walked to his bedside and opened the jar. He opened his eyes. An arched eyebrow looked her up and down, "Hm." He said.  
If she could have placed her hand on her hip, she would have.  
"What?" She huffed.  
"Your Transfigurations have improved," he straightened against the pile of pillows, "You can leave the salve and return to the potion."  
He reached for the salve in her hands, but she moved back, "I have half an hour, and you can barely move without wincing. Let me help."  
He rolled his eyes, but didn't object.  
So she sat the salve on the bedside table, moving to undo the sheet. His hand grabbed hers again, and this time she felt like the silence lingered for longer as he stared into her eyes.  
"You may not be prepared for what you're going to see."  
Blue eyes stared into brown and the coldness of the room made her arm hair stand on end. Or was it his hand holding hers?  
She grabbed the sheet end, while he still held on tightly, "Its ok." She said.  
He let go.  
Lydia undid the sheet, as he hissed for the hundredth time, "Sorry."  
"Can't be helped." He said, weakly.  
"Can I use magic to cut the rest of your robe and shirt away – it seems like the blood has dried most of it to your skin. I don't want to hurt you more by pulling at everything, but if the use of magic will enhance the effects of the curse, then I won't."  
"You can."  
She used her wand and then placed it on the table. Then slowly, and carefully pulled his robe and undershirt away from his sticky chest.  
There was a lot of blood, and gashes upon gashes.  
When she finally cleared the material from his chest, she was astonished at the size of the centre wound on his stomach. It was _deep.  
_She reached for the salve, placing a small amount on her fingertips, "You'll need far more than that I'm afraid," he said to her.  
She looked down at her hand and he said, "Gather a small handful – we will need to create a large layer to go over the top of the wound."  
"Ok."  
She lathered the salve over the deep gash, while he quietly examined her. She felt as though he were judging every movement she made.  
Once the deep gash was covered, the salve glowed over the wound and she leant back.  
"It stops the wound from bleeding. But it does not heal it. The glow indicates the bleed has been stopped. It will repair some of the smaller wounds, though."  
"Oh."  
She put more onto her fingers and then began smearing them onto the other gashes – not as bad – but still as deep, and her eyes ran over her Professor's chest. There were fresh wounds, yes. But there were multiple layers of old scars, new scars – _fresh _– scars, the entirety of his chest marred with millions of them.  
That was what he had meant then.  
She let her thumb trail over quite a large scar that stretched over his collar bone and off his shoulder.  
"_Don't." _He said to her, keeping his eyes locked down.  
She took her hands away and looked down, "So this has happened more than once?"  
"Go check on the potion, Stone." He said, looking toward the window and leaving a heavy silence to linger in the air.  
She wanted to ask more. She _needed _to know more. Who was torturing him? Why were they targeting him? Was he in trouble? Did anyone else know?  
But instead she left to check on the potion.

When she returned, she was nervous. He had pulled some of the torn robe back over his chest to cover the wounds – or to hide his scars from her – but she pretended not to notice.  
She rounded the bed, placing a rack of the vials next to the bed, and extended a hand holding one of them to him, "Here."  
He took it, staring at her, "Thank you, you may leave now."  
"A-Are you sure I shouldn't stay?"  
"Stone, I have done this numerous times myself. It may surprise you, but I do not need a blithering student tending to my needs, and I do not need your _pity._"  
She ignored the comment, "Please just let me stay until daylight. At least so I know you're alright."  
"Get. OUT!" He bellowed.  
The disgust emanated from him as he glared at her. She felt her eyes well with tears, but willed them to stay. She would NOT cry in front of him.  
Not now.  
Not when he had belittled her caring nature all because of his precious pride.  
She turned and walked from the room – her footsteps echoing down the hall.

Lydia was on the second set of stairs when a blood curdling scream crashed into her. She backed against the wall as it intensified, burning her ears.  
She knew the potion would potentially be painful – the mix of ingredients involved were ones that could also be used in poisons. But she hadn't realised just how painful.  
She could hear his heavy breathing – even from the stairs – and then another loud groan clawing at her.  
She couldn't leave.  
She wouldn't forgive herself if something happened to him.  
She knew she couldn't go back up there either. So she sat on the step, hugging her knees as his screams melted into the embers of the night.  
After an hour of screaming – to the point where she could hear the crack of exhaustion in his vocal cords – he finally calmed.  
The screaming stopped.  
Lydia decided to wait a little longer before returning to the room. Her heart pounded. Was he ok?

Her quiet steps into the room were etched with hesitation. He had turned out the lights at some point in his extreme attack of pain – so she could barely see where she was walking, thankful for the hall light that leaked across the floor.  
He wasn't moving.  
But he was breathing.  
She let out a soft sigh of relief as she stood at the end of the bed – seeing that the gash had sealed, but now an angry looking line sat in its place.  
She hadn't used the salve to heal the cuts on his face – but the potion had healed them almost completely. Even in the dark she could tell that they had almost all disappeared.  
Well, he hadn't yelled at her yet.  
He had been knocked unconscious – either from the pain or the properties of the potion. She was glad for either. At least he could get some rest.  
It was nearing 5am now, and Lydia was in no way going to leave his side. She didn't know how the potion worked – or how the Cruciatus would affect the body further. She had taken multiple vials because the book said that more than one dose may be required, but he hadn't touched the others. She walked to the chair by the window and transfigured it so that she had something to rest her legs on – then she quietly settled herself with the knitted blanket, and spent the early hours of the morning staring at the Potions Master until she unwillingly was taken by sleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Lydia squinted as strokes of sunlight touched her sleeping face. She blinked away the blur of morning light, and wiggled her toes – stretching. Her eyes scanned the walls and wooden floors – hazily she started to remember where she was.  
Her movements became quieter then.  
She hugged the blanket closer to herself, and slowly peeked at the sleeping Professor. He was strewn across his bed, a pained expression marring his brow; every inch of him screaming exhaustion.  
Lydia shivered. His house was _cold. _How he had slept with barely any covers on him – Lydia didn't know. She was too afraid to pull them over him, after he had kicked them off, for fear of waking him.  
She wondered _how _angry he would be when he found her still sitting in his house - when he found out she had ignored his instructions, and disobeyed him. She was worried.  
But no matter the consequences, she couldn't have left him. He would understand that, wouldn't he?  
Lydia spent a few moments contemplating what exactly she should do. Her gaze had drifted to the window – staring at the secluded grounds that Spinners End sat on. It was quite beautiful.  
When Lydia looked back at the Professor she froze.  
Black eyes bore into her own.  
There was _rage. _  
She nearly fell off the chair.  
He tore his gaze and rolled over, while his back was to her he said, "Why are you still here?"  
Lydia felt the fire in his words, and shrunk back into the chair.  
"I wanted to make sure you were alright."  
He snorted, "As you can see, I am perfectly alright. Now, if you would please exit my abode as I would immensely enjoy the absence of your _presence._"  
Lydia cleared her throat, reluctantly taking the warm blanket from herself and neatly placing it on the arm of the chair as she stood.  
After everything she had done for him she felt furious. But she bit her tongue. She knew what his reaction would be, but she had chosen to stay.  
She slowly walked to the door, staring at his retreated back – somehow still caring whether he was alright or not.  
"Professor, I will come back later."  
He abruptly sat up in the bed, "YOU will take no such liberty! Do _not _return here. I do not need a single thing from _you!_"  
Lydia tilted her head, and smiled at him – the hue of her eyes bright as they glowed in the strands of sunlight, "I know." She said.  
Then she turned and left as his chest heaved in angry puffs of air.

Lydia hadn't realised that what she thought was morning light that was waking her, had actually been afternoon sun. Lucky for her it was the weekend. So no classes. She was meant to be at work to open that morning though – she prayed that Abel was alright without her.  
She had transfigured the dress back to its original form, and sighed at its tattered, blood stained fate. She barely had worn it for a night and it had suffered tremendously. Later, she swore to herself that she would do her best to mend it.  
She quickly showered and gathered her things – she needed to check on Abel, and get back as soon as possible to check on the Professor.

Lydia took a deep breath.  
"Spinners End!"  
She fully expected the floo to be barred, and for nothing to happen when she said the words aloud.  
But to her surprise, she came flying out of the floo at Spinners end and tumbled out in a graceful spluttered mess.  
She coughed, and wiped dust from her clothes as she stood trying to fix her haphazard appearance. Though she had showered and changed her clothes – managed to grab _something _to eat – she still looked a mess. She was exhausted. When she was rushing through the grounds she had bumped into Ron and Hermione – who had asked what she was doing, but she couldn't remember the answer that left her lips.  
Abel had been a different story. She had only told him necessary pieces – knowing that it was a private matter. She only mentioned that a friend had been injured on the grounds and she had been up all night caring for them.  
Abel was more than accommodating – seeing the pained expression from her face as she spoke about the event was more than enough for him to forgive her for leaving him to run the shop on his own.  
She vaguely glanced at herself again – grateful that in her haze she had chosen long pants and a warm, white sweater. The house was still freezing. She sighed. As much as she would have loved to continue distracting herself with thoughts on her appearance and her shenanigans throughout the day, she needed to climb the stairs and face the wrath that would be Professor Snape.

Lydia lifted heavy legs as she tip-toed down the long hallway. She hugged herself, shivering as the air felt icier the closer she approached.  
The door was slightly ajar – not the way she had left it that afternoon. Hopefully that meant that he had been able to move around. Who was she kidding…of course he had been up and about. He was the most stubborn man she had ever come across.  
She placed a shaky hand on the door and pushed it lightly, "Professor?" She called.  
The door creaked open slowly and her breath caught as she met dark eyes.  
A heavy sigh left his chest, "I do recall telling you to stay away."  
Lydia was speechless for a moment. He looked completely different. There was a warmth to his cheeks now – still pale – but etched with a little life. He had changed into a navy blue, loose sweater and was leaning against the headboard of his bed, a book in hand.  
He coughed – uncomfortable under her gaze.  
"Sorry," She started, stepping timidly into the room, "You look much better."  
"Hmph."  
"Can I get you anything?" She asked as nonchalantly as she could.  
She watched him open his mouth – a biting remark, she was sure, caught on the edge of his lips; but he closed it and frowned for a moment.  
"No," he began, "I am well. If you insist on gawking at me then please do it over there and let me read in peace."  
Lydia smirked, he had already looked away, so she walked to the chair that she had transfigured – she had forgotten to switch it back – and she took a seat, lifting her legs.  
"Please do refrain from tormenting my furniture. You will be returning that to its original form before you leave, and if it is not identical to its original you will have detention for the rest of the year."  
"Yes sir."  
She wanted to salute him, but she knew she was pushing it already with the tone she had used to reply to him.  
Lydia picked at her nails. She had so many questions she wanted to ask him, but she knew the fact that he hadn't barred her from entering his house meant that he had _some _semblance of trust for her. She couldn't ruin that.  
"Just _how _long do you plan on invading my personal space?" He questioned, his head still tilted down as he skimmed the pages before him.  
Lydia bit her lip, "Until I know for sure you're ok."  
She saw the flicker in his brow, and then he looked up at her from a curtain of black hair.  
"You may read that," he gestured behind her, "if you're going to continue terrorising me."  
Lydia turned and looked behind her. Perched on the windowsill was a book that had a strange symbol she had never seen before on the cover. It looked like some of the runes she had been studying but didn't spark anything in her memory. There was no title either. He must have noticed her peculiar eyes on the cover and spoke, "It is a book of rune movements."  
Lydia frowned up at him, "Movements?" She questioned.  
He pinched the bridge of his nose.  
"You may have noticed that each spell you cast has a specific movement that must be used for a spell to be successful. These movements are called Rune Movements. Ancient Witches and Wizards began making powerful spells by studying the effects of each movement. It is only touched upon in rune classes at the school. This being because all basic rune movements have already been incorporated into useful spells that most students learn in their first year."  
Lydia was surprised by his explanation. She was under the impression that rune magic was different to the magic that they used, but now she was discovering that it was a combination? She was grateful for any information or knowledge on magic that she didn't know – and this was new to her. She wanted to greedily read every single page and take notes in great detail – her fingers itched over the cover in excitement.  
She smoothed her hand down the front after breaking his gaze and began to open the book.  
She paused and glanced back up at him, "So you're saying I could potentially learn how to create my own spells?"  
His eyes darkened and he smirked, "I did."  
Snape then looked back down and turned the page of what he was reading.  
Lydia's mind was busy racing with the new information.  
_Well, he's a little cocky.  
_Lydia was still grateful. And a little in awe. He was powerful – he rightfully struck fear into all of his students – she would never want to be one of his enemies.  
Lydia opened the book, mesmerised by the first page. She smiled to herself. Suddenly realising that the book had already been there when she entered the room.  
He _wanted _her to stay.  
A girly giggle escaped her – a _foreign _sound.  
"And what, pray tell, is so amusing?" He asked, once again peering at her.  
She tucked her feet under herself, "N-Nothing!"  
The afternoon slowly faded with the fleeting tilt of her lips.

**Sorry for the gap between updates guys! I hope this chapter was ok (super hard to keep track of your own story when you don't reread it often enough). Thanks for the follows! **


	15. Chapter 15

_"If I can just get to her floo." _He thought.  
Snape struggled to take in air as he almost crumbled under the weight of the rain. Blood was gurgling from his throat. He had wounds in every crevice; the potion that he had taken barely able to counteract the bleeding from a Cruciatus curse.  
He groaned.  
The door was just around the corner.  
He clung to the wall for dear life.  
Snape felt helpless for a brief second.

He had been ambushed. In the deepest corner of the Forbidden Forest he was gathering Elder herb: A herb with the capability to open one's mind - if the right brewer knew what they were doing.  
He had just gathered enough when he heard peculiar sounds - not common to the forest. He realised he had not been cautious enough.  
The next few moments were spent with his body convulsing and writhing in excruciating pain as the Cruciatus shredded through every molecule of his existence. Every movement of every joint sent shards of explosive agony through him.  
It was utter torment.  
In the spaces between convulsions where his mind allowed him to process thoughts, he was ashamed that he had been such a cautious-less fool.

Generally, when one has been afflicted with the Cruciatus as intently as he had been, they are unable to move. They are unable to speak, or to breathe. Usually they die, unable to utter a single word or call for help and their last breaths echo into nothingness.  
But for Severus Snape it was quite different.  
Whether it be because he had suffered the Cruciatus many times before, or that he had made potions to help deal with the after affects - he was able to move. _Barely._

That was how he ended up almost crawling his way to stone's cabin. It was his only choice. He knew her Floo would be functioning, and he knew he could safely get to his home and administer himself the antidote.  
He was praying on pure luck that the doors to her cabin would open for him. The wards that had been placed on it were a very specific kind. You would only be allowed into the home if the owner trusted you. Though they did not have the closest of relationships, he hoped she trusted him enough that the wards would open.  
_Oh _how the rain felt like the fires of hell were upon him.  
It hammered every inch of his being as it fell from the sky. He wanted to scream. It was as though his clothes had become one thousand times heavier and pulled and tore at his joints with every movement he made.  
The blood had been the first sign that he was gravely injured. Never-before had he started choking on it after an attack. Though, this one had been quite severe. Whoever was after him was powerful.  
Once he was recovered he would take his _revenge._

While the time he spent sprawled in a mess, surely staining her couch, was used barely clinging to some form of consciousness; she was dealing with his situation surprisingly well. He hadn't considered that she may actually be of help to him. Not that his mind could handle much comprehensive thought, as his blood was quickly draining from his wounds.  
He briefly reflected on how his mind had startled when he had first saw her outside the cabin.  
Even in his almost collapsing state he managed to admire the deepest blue that her dress glistened in, under the curtain of raindrops.  
The way her skin shone under that sheen of water.  
The way her lips parted, and eyes sparkled with _worry _for him and time slowed just enough so he could see the radiant hue of them.  
He noticed.  
And then he was there, on her couch, yelling commands at her and praying that she still had potions left. Anything that might stop the bleeding.

When they were in his home and she walked back through his bedroom door, holding the potion like it was the holy grail, he wanted to smile. And laugh. _God _how he wanted to laugh at his pitiful self. There he was, a grown, powerful man, being taken care of by a girl. He corrected himself. A _woman. _But a nuisance, nonetheless. Especially standing there, in her transfigured dress, tentative after spending hours making sure he would be alright.  
It was sickening.  
He made sure to snap at her a few more times before telling her to leave. He would be fine. He had always taken care of himself.

As his pain leaked into the night - trickles of moonlight flooded the spaces of his room - he rolled onto his side, and sleepily blinked her form into vision. She was a faint picture, barely making a sound as she exhaled deeply and snuggled deeper into _his _blanket.  
His eyes trailed over her pail skin, much more prominent by the window-light, and he marvelled at her peaceful brow. She must have forgotten where she was. That could be the only reason for such a painless expression.  
Couldn't it?  
He thought he would be angrier.  
She had disobeyed him again. A Professor. Her superior. She had done it multiple times now; and yet as he drowsily stared at the skin on her bare shoulder, as she slept wrapped in his blanket, her lips barely parted, he found he did not care one bit.  
He found himself mimicking her breathing pattern. Her relaxed aura tugged at his own, and soon his eyes became heavier and heavier.  
Then, for the first time in years, Severus Snape dreamed.  
Of umber hair and azure eyes.

**Authors Note: Thanks for the new follows! Hope you are enjoying! I'll try to spice it up a bit next chapter heh.**


	16. Chapter 16

Under the blanket of darkness, far away from Hogwarts, a hoarse voice shouted commands at a small, wimp of a man. If he could even be called a man.  
Severus stood at the end of a large table - in a room too small for humans - and watched as an apparition abused Peter Pettigrew.  
If he hadn't been wearing his mask, poor Peter would have seen the smirk on Severus' face. He didn't feel bad for taking pleasure in the discomfort and scrutiny that Pettigrew was enduring. No. Pettigrew deserved far worse than some measly yelling.  
He deserved death of the most painful kind.  
Severus knew that in his bones.  
He wondered when he began to feel so bitterly about everything. Death was once a notion he feared, he couldn't bear to inflict upon one, but in that room, staring at that rat of a face - he _wished _he were a murderer.

"Severus." The apparition said.  
Snape glanced at the apparition, his expression hidden - almost surprised - and said, "Yes, my lord?"  
Voldemort looked furious. Snape must have missed something important.  
"You were not paying attention?"  
"I apologise, my lord, I was attempting to think of ways to bring back your true form." He lied.  
Voldemort smiled, "Well. Be sure to listen more clearly, you are forgiven this time, but I will not refrain from punishing you for your insolence next time."  
Snape bowed his head low, "Thank you, my lord."  
"Now. Before your mind wandering rudely interrupted, I was asking you how your progress is going with our young girl."  
Severus kept his head down, "As I have mentioned, the block in the girls mind is proving quite difficult to access."  
"He is failing, my lord! Please, please let me - Severus could never be as determined as I to please you. I will do it, I will break into her mind!"  
"Shut _up!_" Spat the dark lord, and Pettigrew recoiled as the wrath wrapped around him.  
"Severus. If this is proving too difficult for you, I will have to take other measures."  
"Could those measures jeopardise my position at Hogwarts? Would that not ruin further plans to destroy Potter and Dumbledore?"  
The Dark Lord looked angrier, if that was possible, "You. May. " He begrudgingly forced the words out.  
"If you were more skilled then we would not need your spy expertise any longer. _She _could take care of everything."  
Snape's breath caught.  
_He has revealed something he should not have. Lydia is dangerous.  
_The dark lord cleared his throat, and scowled once more at Pettigrew, who had remained quiet.  
"Peter!" He started, taking in a long breath, "Scour the grounds, find any information that may be useful, be another set of ears for Severus."  
Snape's anger inflamed - he did NOT want Pettigrew sneaking around, causing trouble and getting in the way of his plans. It was unacceptable - his cover was already teetering - Pettigrew would be a painful addition to his already painful existence at Hogwarts.  
As much as he wanted to protest he calmly nodded, "That would be quite helpful, my Lord."  
Pettigrew let out an evil cackle, "Yes, yes my Lord! I will not fail you! I will find you exactly what you _need._"  
"Very well, I expect to hear news on your progress. And Severus, do hurry up with your meandering with that girl, we will need her."  
Snape nodded.  
"And, neither of you are to tell a single soul of this meeting, it is to stay between us." He hissed, his eyes lingering in a glare on Pettigrew as he emphasized _us_.  
The image before them slowly drifted into nothingness as the apparition disappeared.  
Snape had a lot to contemplate.

**A/N: Sorry for this chapter….I hated writing it….BUT HOPE YOU CAN ACCEPT IT FOR NOW…PROMISE I'M UPLOADING THE NEXT ONE LITERALLY IN TWO MINUTES.**


	17. Chapter 17

Lydia hadn't seen Snape for a while. She was worried. But she was also angry. No one knew where he was – there was a replacement Potions Professor taking his classes – and Dumbledore had just said that Snape was away on private business. Did Dumbledore know everything now? Had Snape sworn her to secrecy, yet gone ahead and told Dumbledore anyway?  
Her mind raced through explanations, but she knew it was no use. He had been too prepared to treat the Cruciatus – too used to the pain, as though it were a common routine for him. Perhaps the little trio were right, maybe he did have something to do with the Death Eaters.

Lydia hadn't even realised how quickly the semester break was approaching. She hadn't finished any of her assignments, she had barely studied for the next Transfiguration exam – she was a mess. She had been too wrapped up in work – profusely apologising to her boss and to Abel for having so much time off – to even fathom her class content.  
So when Hermione Granger found Lydia in the library – nose crammed into piles of books – it was no surprise. As Hermione approached the exhausted looking Lydia she held a sincere smile on her young face, "Catching up on all of the work you've missed?" She asked.  
Lydia lifted her nose from a book of transfiguration terms and half-heartedly laughed, "Sure am. Wish I had kept on top of all of this."  
Hermione took a seat, and dropped her book bag on the table, "I can assist you with Transfiguration, if you'd like. I think you're probably still quite ahead on everything else, though."  
Lydia had never heard sweeter words! She grinned up at Hermione, "I would be in your debt! If there is anything you ever need I promise I'll help you!"  
Hermione grinned, and a playful tug came at her brows, "How about we make a trade. I get to look at your Potions notes and you can look at my Transfiguration ones?"  
Lydia nodded, pulling out her Potions notes – "The folded pages are the ones from class."  
Hermione smiled, taking the book gratefully and handing her own to Lydia.  
Maybe she wasn't going to abysmally fail after-all.

Two hours had passed. Lydia looked over at the tuft of Hermione's hair, hanging around her as her face was buried behind her books.  
"How are the boys going with their studies?" Lydia asked – a little break from studying wouldn't hurt – and she hadn't seen Harry or Ron in quite some time.  
Hermione took a moment to notice that Lydia had said anything – so engrossed in the words before her that Lydia had to clear her throat.  
Hermione looked up, startled, "O-Oh, the boys? Well, actually, Harry has been a little strange lately. He said he's been hearing these strange voices around the castle, but I've never heard them."  
Lydia furrowed her brow, "Can he understand what the voices are saying?"  
"No…he's never mentioned it if he has. He just said sometimes they get louder, sometimes they sound farther away."  
Lydia leant her elbow on the table and rested her head in her hand – then let out a huff.  
"That's strange. I hope he's alright."  
Hermione twitched her nose, "So…you believe him then? You think he's actually hearing voices?"  
Lydia wanted to tell Hermione that she too had heard voices. But perhaps they were unrelated. Hers had brought her to her knees, but it sounded like Harry was just hearing the whispers of Hogwarts.  
"I do believe him," She said, "It's Hogwarts. We have floating apparitions for Merlin's sake, anything is possible!"  
Hermione chuckled, "You're right. I just hope the voices are of a good kind. Harry has a tendency to get mixed up in things."  
Lydia nodded, "That boy is incredibly talented at getting all THREE of you involved in things you shouldn't be."  
Hermione went quiet for a moment, and a solemn look came over her.  
"What's wrong?" Asked Lydia.  
"Have you heard of students turning up petrified recently?" She asked quietly.  
Lydia looked around the empty library and leaned closer, "What do you mean?"  
"Well… it was around the time that Harry started hearing voices. Students started to turn up petrified and I'm worried that it's something more than the Professors are letting on."  
Lydia crossed her arms over herself, "What do you think it could be?"  
Hermione turned quickly and quietly, pulling a book out of her bag and flipping through the pages. She gently nudged the book across the table pointing at a large snake image, "This is A History of Hogwarts, and within this book it speaks of Salazar Slytherin hiding a secret chamber in Hogwarts and leaving a Basilisk to guard the chamber."  
Lydia eyed her unsurely, "Right…"  
Hermione continued, "A Basilisk has the ability to petrify any who make direct eye contact with it and can rip a human apart. Furthermore, a Parstlemouth, which is what we have discovered Harry is, can communicate, understand and control them if they are powerful enough. My fear is that the whispers that Harry is hearing are actually those of the Basilisk and that the students whom have turned up petrified, are those who have looked into the deadly eyes of the snake."  
Lydia took a deep breath, much like the one that Hermione breathed in, "But I thought they never found the Chamber of Secrets."  
Hermione arched her brow, "It doesn't mean it's not here. I know it sounds unbelievable, but the Dark Lord could use this to his advantage."  
"I thought Harry destroyed the Dark Lord."  
"He may have wounded him, but I never truly believed he was destroyed. I think it would be ignorant to assume that he is gone for good. We did that once before and look what happened."  
Lydia nodded – many thoughts travelling through her mind – perhaps the voices she had been hearing were the same as the ones that Harry had been hearing.

They slowly drifted off the topic, both melting into thoughts of their own – the calm of the library wrapping around them – the brief lament of their conversation tainting any further studying they may have wanted to do.  
Lydia had been checking the time continuously. It was getting too late for them both to be out about the castle, and if they were caught leaving the library late then they would both have hell to pay. Especially from _Filch_.  
"We better get going," she started, gathering her books – gratefully taking Hermione's notes and putting them in her bag, "I'll walk you to your room."  
Hermione blinked at her sleepily and gathered her own things, pushing the chair out from behind her as quietly as she could.  
"It's alright we practically sleep on opposite sides of the castle. I can walk myself."  
Lydia sighed and glared.  
"Come on," Hermione huffed, "We need to get out of here before Filch comes around."  
Lydia smiled and finished gathering the last of her things, while Hermione headed to the door to check if the coast was clear.

Then there was a thud.  
Lydia's head jolted to the doorway – now closed – "Hermione?" She called quietly.  
No answer.  
Lydia hurried – her heart thudding erratically – her hand outstretched toward the large oak door. She pushed.  
The hallway was dark and eerie as she stepped out into the open. She looked down to her right, where the corridor twisted deep into darkness, and called, "Hermione?" Again.  
Silence swallowed her and she began to panic.  
Then the _whispers. _  
Millions. Each one tearing at her in an amalgamation of words she couldn't quite comprehend.  
She started running toward her left – wanting to crush her head beneath her hands – and above the whispers heard a faint scream farther down the hall.  
"Hermione!" She croaked, and rounded a bend.  
The whispers stopped.  
Then her eyes laid upon the frozen form of Hermione Granger. 


	18. Chapter 18

Lydia blinked. There was only darkness. She blinked again - the blurs around her whirled and smothered - she could only make out a brief figure through the shadow.  
"H-Hello?" She called, weakly.  
She received no reply, but heard footsteps inching closer to her.  
She inched backwards.  
She scrambled for her wand, itching at her holster, but it wasn't there.  
Suddenly the room was illuminated - "Looking for this?" Questioned a pale young man, eyes sullen and dark.  
"Accio wand!" She called.  
Her wand flew seamlessly through the air and into her hands.  
She stood quickly holding her wand out, ready to cast him into oblivion.  
"_What _do you want with me? Why have you brought me here?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly.  
The man brooded momentarily - looking her up and down - "Still as good a spell caster as ever, I see."  
Lydia's brow furrowed.  
He smirked.  
"Still as clueless, too."  
"What could you possibly mean by that - I don't know you."  
The man circled her as she kept her wand trained on him; ready to defend herself if he dared to attack her.  
"Oh sweet, _dear, _Lydia. Too daft to even realise what has happened to you. He must have something big planned for you."  
Lydia felt her eyes swelling. She didn't know where she was, she didn't know _who _he was, and what he was saying to her was starting to make her feel uneasy.  
He sensed her discomfort even before it leaked onto her features.  
"Don't fret, I just want to...talk a little."  
Lydia's mind was still rushing with thoughts, or voices, she couldn't tell the difference now. Between the damning presence of the young man and the hum of wherever she was trapped, she could barely hold onto herself.  
"Who are you?"  
"We used to be so close. But, since you've forgotten, you can call me Tom."  
Lydia squirmed under his gaze. _What was he talking about?_  
"I did bring you here to let you be killed," He said with such _casual_ malice, "But then your little friend stumbled down here and, well, he has been _quite _entertaining."  
Lydia's heart rattled, "What? Let me be killed by who? And what friend?" She asked, becoming increasingly panicked.  
It was too hard to keep track of everything that he was saying to her - her head felt like it was going to explode with the whispers that were surmounting.  
The hum around her became so loud that she felt vibrations emanating and curling through her body. A sheen of light trickled down from the roof - much like a dome surrounding her - and the realisation hit her hard. There had been wards around them. Wards that had she noticed, she could have cancelled - she could have seen what was before her.  
Her stomach dropped.  
"He doesn't seem to be going too well."  
In the distance she could see an impossibly large serpent - viciously attacking Harry - Harry scrambled across the walls and she felt sick.  
She tried to run to him.  
"Harry!" She called, but her body wouldn't move.  
She looked back at Tom and her blood boiled. Somehow, he was keeping her there - to watch as Harry's life hung preciously before her.  
"Oh no, no, you will watch him die."  
Lydia felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked at him with the hatred he had ignited inside of her, "Why?" She whispered.  
"Because I can."

Hazy eyes blinked up at the shadows that stood by her bedside.  
"Ah, she's waking up."  
The voice was familiar to her but it wasn't until her vision cleared and she saw an enormously long beard that she realised who was standing beside her.  
"P-Professor Dumbledore," She started, weakly, "What happened?"  
He looked at her solemnly, "I am afraid a lot has happened since we found you unconscious m'dear. I think it's best we let you rest some more before going into detail."  
Lydia glanced down at herself - she didn't appear to be injured in any way; just the constant throbbing of her head.  
She quickly looked up, "Is Harry alright?"  
Dumbledore gestured to her left, and she looked to see an unconscious Harry in an infirmary bed next to hers.  
She frowned.  
"He will be alright, dear." Called Madam Pomfrey as she came to stand beside Dumbledore with a tray of potions.  
Lydia felt herself let out a long breath.  
"You were found unconscious, not far from Ms Granger, outside of the library. Miss Granger is up and about - she's recovering well - I'd like you to stay for the rest of the day until you're feeling a bit more yourself."  
Lydia's mind was still cloudy, "I don't want to be a bother," She began, but immediately trailed off when she received a deadly look from Madam Pomfrey. She knew not to argue.  
"I'd like you to come see me once you're feeling up to it." Said Dumbledore softly after Madam Pomfrey had made her way to Harry's side.  
Lydia numbly nodded and watched as he exited the Infirmary.  
As she laid back onto her pillow she felt relief flood her veins, knowing that her little friends were going to be alright.

**Authors note: Sooooooooooooooo…..DON'T HATE ME. I have been STRUGGLING to write properly for months because work is sucking my soul out of me. I am trying SO HARD TO GET TO THE GOOD STUFF but I really want it to build…I'm going to be breaking away from the HP timeline a bit in the next few chapters/the general story (it might end up being the same but I want to kind of branch off into my own thing) ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT, PLZ REVIEW OR FOLLOW/ I PROMISE I WILL MAKE THE FIRST KISS EVERYTHING WE HAVE ALL EVER DREAMED OF. KAYYY, love you all! **


	19. Chapter 19

It was a few hours after Lydia had been released from the Infirmary, wrapped in the blankets of her bed, that she suddenly remembered everything.  
_How _did she forget it all so quickly?  
Hermione and her studying at the library, then Hermione's scream and then...darkness. As quickly as she had closed her eyes she was in a foreign place, with that _boy _\- who spat such nonsensical things at her that even now in the comfort and safety of her home, her head still ached. Had it all just been a dream or a symptom of being petrified?  
But then she wondered how she would have known that Harry had been injured. She tried to organise her memories as best she could - she was going to tell Professor Dumbledore everything.

It was the mechanical knock of her hand on the door that made her realise she was standing in front of Dumbledore's office. Her clouded mind made her shiver.  
Shuffling could be heard on the other side of the door before the calm, "Enter," was said.  
Lydia took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and stepped into the office.

Lyida hiccuped in surprise when she saw a disheveled looking Snape staring at her from in front of Dumbledore's desk.  
"I shall take my leave," he said, dully, only letting his eyes linger on Lydia for a second before turning to Dumbledore.  
As he turned back Lydia noticed a small scratch on his cheek. She wanted to heal it for him - at the sight of him - he looked more worn out than he had when he was bleeding all over her couch. If that was possible.  
"Actually, Severus, I'd like you to stay. This meeting will concern you too."  
He only nodded in brief agreement, before taking one of the seats Dumbledore had gestured to. Lydia supposed she was meant to take the other chair. So she did - greeting them both, "It's good to see you Professor," She said to Snape, then smiled at Dumbledore, "Thank you for seeing me, sir."

There was only the sound of Dumbledore sucking on a lemon drop, almost eerily, until Lydia spoke.  
"I have gathered my thoughts as best I could," She started nervously, "And the reason I was unconscious was a little different to Hermione's."  
"You were found right beside each other, were you not?" Interjected Snape.  
"Right, but I believe I was taken to the Chamber of Secrets by someone."  
A serious look became Dumbledore's expression and he cleared his throat, "So...you were there with Harry and the others then?"  
Lydia pinched her nose, "Not quite. I-I was taken by someone named Tom and he wanted to leave me there to be killed by the Basilisk but when he took the wards down Harry was there battling-"  
"_Tom?_" Questioned Snape - his tone so disbelieving that Lydia felt a little offended.  
"Let the girl finish, Severus."  
Snape glared at her, but kept his mouth shut and Lydia once again tried to recollect what had happened to her.  
"Yes. Tom. That's what he said his name was. I don't know how he got me down there - or how I was brought back - but he...said he knows me and that we used to be close, but I have no idea who he is."  
"You didn't recognise him at all?" Asked Dumbledore, leaning back in his chair.  
Lydia shook her head, "No."  
She looked down and fell into a deep silence - willing herself not to let her eyes fill with tears.  
"Is there anything else you would like to tell us?" Asked Dumbledore sincerely.  
She said nothing as she lifted her head and glanced at Snape through his cloak of hair, then back to Dumbledore. A lone tear trickled down her face.  
"I can't remember my life before Hogwarts."  
"What?" Said Snape and she looked at him with eyes pleading.  
"I don't remember any of it. Nothing. I don't remember where I lived, I don't remember _who _I lived with, I don't remember if I had siblings, I don't remember why Jeremy died in my _arms_-" Her lips quivered on the end of Jeremy's name, still feeling the deep sting of his death residing within her and melding with her panic.  
She felt the looks of confusion even with her head tilted down and sighed. How were they supposed to believe her, if she could barely believe the words that were leaving her mouth - how had she forgotten _everything?_  
"Lydia," Said Dumbledore, seriously, "Could you tell me how it was that you and I came to meet?"  
She looked at him, and thought hard. She sifted through her mind, attempting to find ANY memory resembling her first meeting with Dumbledore. But there was nothing.  
Her pale face was sullen and damp as the tears fell.  
"W-Where," She swallowed, "_did _we meet?"  
Dumbledore's expression softened and the warmth in his tone tried to calm her as he said, "Well...you sent me a letter mentioning your sudden discovery of magic, the representatives of the Ministry of Magic contacted me confirming the sudden outburst of magical power, and then we met in Hogsmeade to discuss Hogwarts and your stay here."  
Lydia was bewildered.  
She couldn't remember it.  
"I think it would be best if you went and had yourself some rest. You have been through quite a lot - and I know how difficult this must be for you. Severus and I will try to find a way to understand what has happened here and get you your memories back."  
She was quiet when she said, "Thank you, sir," before walking grimly out of the room.

The second he knew she would be out of ear shot, Severus angrily stood - the chair flying across the room and nearly shattering against castle walls.  
Dumbledore didn't even flinch. His eyes were still soft as he stared at the furious Potions Master - who was growing increasingly angrier with the calmness that Dumbledore was exuding. It taunted him.  
"You _know _something. Don't you?" He asked - the words had been bit out in quick succession as he gripped the table.  
"Calm down Severus, please." Dumbledore pleaded.  
Snape vigorously shook his head - "Do not tell me to calm down. DO tell me what it is you are hiding. I do not want to play these games Albus!"  
Dumbledore sighed.  
"The circumstances in which I met Ms Stone were slightly different to what I informed her."  
"Elaborate." Said Snape.  
"Do you remember the strange surge of power not long before the Dark Lord rose again in search of the Philosophers stone?"  
Snape nodded.  
"We thought it was something to do with the Death Eaters emerging again - as you know - but I was specifically asked to investigate the matter."  
Snape rolled his eyes, "I do enjoy it when you prolong the telling of these stories, Headmaster."  
Dumbledore smirked, but then continued with a stern tone, "As I was saying, after the first surge another emerged. I tracked it immediately and found myself at the location of the source. It was a small town, not far from Hogsmeade Village, a young girl was, some how, healing a gravely wounded man. No wand, no chanting - no spell that I had ever come across - just willing his flesh to heal."  
"That is the most _ridiculous _tale I have ever heard. Even the most powerful of Wizards find difficulty with healing magic. You expect me to believe a young, newly discovered Witch, brought a man back from the brink of death?"  
In that moment, it was as though darkness had grasped every inch of the room, "The man died, Severus. She healed the wounds of a dead man. The pain that she emanated after her realisation, was much like the pain that you did when-"  
"_Don't."_  
"Severus, please - this is the truth I am telling you."  
"Then, you are the one who has altered her mind?"  
Dumbledore tilted his head, "You and I both know how dangerous it is to alter a persons mind."  
"I wouldn't put a meddling old fool past it."  
"The only meddling I did was offer a grieving girl refuge at Hogwarts."  
Snape exhaled, "Forgive me, Albus, but I highly doubt you would put your students in danger by just letting a stranger into Hogwarts before knowing where she came from or how her magic could be so powerful."  
Dumbledore blinked tiredly, "It is late Severus. Let us talk about this another time."  
"I would like to talk about it now, Headmaster."  
Dumbledore knew that Snape was refraining from biting out remarks - he always switched back to formalities the angrier he got.  
"Enough tonight."  
The lights flickered and Dumbledore was gone. For the second time that night, Severus Snape almost broke another ancient chair in Dumbledore's office.

**I don't even know what I just wrote, but I hope it's good enough for you guys! Thank you to my new followers(follower I think), hope you're enjoying it so far! I MIGHTTTTT  
I MIGHT JUST  
I MIGHT JUST INCLUDE A SNEAKY LITTLE KISS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER  
I FEEL LIKE THAT'S WHERE ITS HEADING**

**PS: Just a reminder I do write/update this on my wattpad first (and try to include cute little pictures when I can), for anyone who wants to read it on there.  
If you just search LiliaPeters Wattpad – it should come up. THANKKKKKKKKKS**


	20. Chapter 20 Part One

The more the girl spoke, the angrier Severus got. He was _furious. _How long had she been feeling the cleft where her memories once were? How long had she been hiding it? What _else _was she hiding?  
Every word that fell from her lips felt like an expertly woven story - every piece chosen carefully. For fleeting seconds, as a crystal tear fell from azure eyes - he did feel sorry for the girl. But as quickly as the feeling came it went - over powered by the purity of his wrath. How many more people, filled with lies, was he going to be surrounded by?

It was understandable that his anger was then taken out on the Headmaster. Someone who was an expert manipulator. Though, Severus was still grateful for his friendship with Albus, it was the secretive nature of the man that really boiled Severus' blood. There was always something more. Something Albus kept to himself _'For the greater good.' _Obviously, Severus was an avid secret keeper himself - but when it put danger in the lives of others, it didn't sit right with him.  
What angered Severus more was the girl. How could she possess such immense power and be so unaware - why would Albus not notify his staff so that they could train her to control such things? Having her at Hogwarts and just undertaking normal classes was not enough if what Albus had said was true.

He could still hear the shattering of the ancient chair as he walked back to his chambers. It wasn't enough. He wanted to curse _something _into oblivion. How _dare _Albus even think of uttering Lily's name. How could he even compare Severus' own pain to the girl. It was incomparable. Severus had spent every day and every hour attempting to keep Lily safe - turned everything he ever had over so that her life would not teeter on the brink of death. Yet it had not been enough.  
The reminder of his failure bitterly stung at Severus. He needed a drink.

Snape was almost down the corridor closest to his chambers - Dark and depressing - the way he liked it, when he noticed light coming from underneath his brewing room.  
Light that should not have been there.  
When he stepped through the door, examining the startled look of Lydia Stone, he exploded.  
"_What _do you think you are doing? I did not give you permission to enter this room - especially at an hour as late as this!"  
Through his searing anger he managed to notice she had actually begun brewing something.  
"Using my personal stores no less!" His voice echoed across the classroom walls and with it her face turned paler and paler.  
She was still stirring clockwise - looking at him with her burdened eyes - "Please forgive me, Professor. I just needed to brew-  
"Needed to brew what?!" He interjected, storming down the walkway and standing on the other side of the cauldron, "You think just because you can't remember a few things, that you get special treatment?"  
Her face withdrew of all colour at his words and he saw her eyes become glassy. _Perfect. _  
"What? Cat got your tongue, Stone? You never seem to have any issues rattling off from your know it all brain incessantly."  
She opened and closed her mouth, losing whatever words she wanted to say to the cold in his eyes.  
"Ha!," he laughed, slinking around the cauldron, "Stop wasting my time, and get out."  
She was definitely speechless.  
He smirked as she stopped stirring the liquid - Dreamless Sleep, he noticed - and she took a deep breath.  
He expected her to turn and leave.  
"Why are you so angry with me?" She asked.  
There was a thick silence as he looked her up and down, unbelieving that she would choose to stay after he had just commanded her to leave.  
"Get. Out."  
Her eyes pierced his, searching for answers.  
"Please, Professor - tell me what it is I have done to upset you, because recently nothing comes to mind. If you're honestly upset with me because I don't know what's happening to my own mind... then you're not who I thought you were."  
The last words lingered for him.  
He hadn't really heard the rest.  
_You're not who I thought you were. _  
"And who precisely do you think I am? How dare you even presume to know me - you do not know me."  
"Professor please be reasonable-  
"Silence! You are a _liar, _you have been hiding something since you arrived at Hogwarts and you cannot be trusted! Albus should have never let you come here."  
The quiet then became suffocating. Snape was breathing harsh breaths from his escalated voice and anger, and Lydia was breathing heavily, attempting to keep her emotions bottled up.  
"Please," she said quietly, "let me stay. You're the only person I can talk to about this. I thought maybe you could help me figure things out."  
Snape sighed, "You are trying my patience, Stone. Get out of my classroom now, or I will make sure you regret ever stepping foot in here without permission."  
He watched her, and her expression slowly began to mirror his own. _Fury_. Pure, unadulterated fury. Not just the emotional kind - the _magical _one. Like electricity sparking the entire room.  
_Crack._


	21. Chapter 20: Part Two

Lydia could barely keep her thoughts in order - or her emotions - as she faced a furious Professor Snape. She was completely, and utterly bewildered, and she had thought she could turn to him.  
He let scathing remarks claw at her already unstable mind. She couldn't fathom why he was being so incredibly horrible to her. Especially after what she had just revealed about herself.  
How could he call her a _liar? _  
She had only ever been honest with him - he had seen into her mind.  
Yet there under the solemn lights of the room, as his expression contorted with rage, she felt hopeless. He was sucking away every ounce of restraint she had on herself. And at the moment, it wasn't much.  
She felt bare.  
The ice in his gaze crippled her. Barely clinging to her own mind she shuddered and felt something begin to spark within her.  
She tried to calm herself.  
"Professor, please be reasonable-  
And he cut her off. Again and again. He didn't want to hear what she had to say - that was clear. Even before she had started speaking; the moment he stepped into the room, she felt the air shift heavy.  
For a split second, she was scared of him. Frightened of the damnation that burned in the black depths of his eyes.  
She couldn't control herself anymore.  
After all she had done to help him heal. She had kept his secret. She had cared for him - potentially risking her life, all for the sake of his. And he couldn't just _listen _to her?  
She couldn't control it anymore.  
The room became electric as she mirrored the furious rage that Snape expressed before her.  
_Crack._  
Her magic exploded. It was like scolding water thundered through her body and ricocheted off her bones and into the room.  
The cauldron was blasted from its place; and a boiling potion spattered across the walls and the floor. It sizzled as bits of the spatter touched Lydia's skin and Professor Snape's.  
"Please!" She almost screamed, "Just let me speak! All you ever do is berate and insult! Even when someone tries to help _you. _I'm so sick of trying to hold my tongue because you're so utterly offended by emotions!"  
Her magic still hummed in the air - slowly coming to a simmer as her anger was released in words. She rounded the spilled cauldron - feeling the warmth of the liquid seeping into her shoes - and stood before him.  
He began to open his mouth, but she yelled, "No!" Stepping even closer to him, "I am not finished! All I wanted to do tonight was brew a dreamless sleep, ask you a few questions - GOD knows, to only try to feel better about not having _any _idea who I am - and you want to call me a liar and send me on my way? How dare _you!_"  
She felt her eyes prickle with tears.  
_God _she wished they wouldn't.  
He was glaring at her now. Sourly.  
She was enraged. She wanted to say so much more - hoped that he felt it emanating from her.  
"You are an absolute bastard."  
The words were hard. To say and to hear herself say.  
They were both breathing heavily, the only sound to their ears as they each exuded their wrath.  
The lights were as dim as the shadows they cast. The room feeling smaller with every second that passed by.  
She bowed her head, no longer able to stare into his eyes. And then, feeling defeated, she turned to leave.  
Two steps.  
_Two steps._  
Was all she took, before he grasped her wrist feather-light.  
It was just enough pressure to stop her in her movements.  
She still faced away from him. Ashamed. Defeated. Angry. _Alone.  
_And then he pulled, and she turned.  
His eyes were swimming with something she couldn't place. His grip tightened.  
The air stilled; her lungs startling their rhythm as his thumb brushed the skin of her wrist.  
Then he crushed her against him.  
His lips consumed her own;_ consumed her being.  
_It was magnetic, enslaving.  
It was _hunger.  
_With every brush of his lips her body became limp, yet alight with fire. There was nothing she could do to fight it. She _wanted _it.  
She kissed him back, greedily - felt his breath mingle with her own. Her heart crackled with thrill as his hand pressed into her lower back and held her firmly against him.  
She squeezed his arm and found her hands twisted in the front of his robe. He pushed her back, and she stumbled - never breaking the kiss - until he pressed her into a table.  
She shuddered as his tongue brushed her own and his body moulded against her. Snape's hands travelled down her sides and inched under her shirt where he brushed her warm skin. It was electric.  
He pulled back.  
His breaths came out in quick puffs across her face - her lips swollen as she looked up at him from a hooded gaze.  
He looked her up and down, fingers gripping the soft, supple skin of her hips - and as quickly as the kiss had started, it was over.  
She blinked, and he was storming down the walkway and the slamming of the door echoed against her now cold body.  
She was breathless. Shaking.  
_What just happened? _


	22. Chapter 21

_He kissed me. _  
The words repeated, over and over.  
A magnetic mantra.  
_He kissed me, he kissed me, he kissed me. _  
There was nothing more her mind could focus on that night, and she was glad.  
She rolled on her side in her bed, and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't forget the taste of his mouth and the softness of his lips as they glided over her own. She still felt the electricity reverberating in her veins as she ran her fingers over her hip bone, where the pad of his thumb had caressed her so lightly.

She was confused. But she _ached_. She _ached _for something more. How could he just kiss her and leave? Had he felt everything that she had felt in the brief seconds the soft skin of her mouth collided with his own?  
She pinched the bridge of her nose and then let her hand drag across her face - momentarily tracing the corner of her mouth where she swore he had nibbled at. She exhaled.

It would be a sleepless night for her.

Severus Snape could be a reckless man. Reckless with his anger, reckless with his own life...but never truly reckless with his romantic life. It was not often that the sight of a woman really caught his eye or clawed at his heart.  
But this was _reckless. _  
He could still taste the sweet nectar of her mouth - the scent of her floral hair lingered in his bones; all slowly becoming his undoing as the tension strangled him.  
_What have I done?_  
What had he done? Why had he done it?  
The reasons behind his primal kiss was fathomless to him. In one static moment she was raising her voice at him - cheeks stained an angry red - and all he could think about was shutting her up.  
But never, not for a single second, would he have dared to kiss her.  
And yet, he did.  
An animal power overcame him as he tugged on her arm and pulled her close to him - her surprised pout quickly becoming all he could devour.  
It was consuming. The air of the room became hot and clung to them as he pushed her back until she was pressed against a desk. His fingers itched to feel her skin. They _did_. The light graze of her hip bone sent shivers through his body.  
That was when he had to rip himself - and rip he did - from her porcelain allure, and left the room in a fit of rage.  
Anger was all he could allow to overcome him, for one second more spent with her tantalising mouth would have been impossible to turn away from. So he got angry. He slammed the door and hurried through the corridor until he arrived at his quarters.

And that was how he came to be a very drunk and very confused Professor Snape. He had draped himself over his chaise - glass of freshly refilled scotch in hand - muttering curses over and over.  
"Stupid girl. Never should have listened to Albus. Should have expelled her."  
Surely it would have been a sight to see. The infamous Potions Master - drunk! He stared at the partial reflection he could see in his glass, and snarled - then quickly threw back the last of the liquid.  
He hissed at the slight burn. Still no amount of alcohol was curing the onslaught of her face - her mouth - her hip - her taste.  
"Fuck!" He yelled and threw the glass and watched it shatter against the stone wall. Nothing was working. He could not erase her from his mind - he could not take it back - and he could not forget the_ electricity_ that cut through him the second that their lips touched.

_What am I doing._

There was no ounce of reason left within him. _She _had taken it all. And an intoxicated Severus Snape was on his way to get it back.  
He stumbled slightly as he exited his chambers - pulling his cloak around himself and stabilising before hurrying through the halls.  
Boy was she going to get a piece of his mind. She had to have poisoned him! A spell - _something! _And now he could finally expel her once he gathered the evidence he needed. He just had to confront her - right now - in the middle of the night, while slightly intoxicated. _It was the only way._

The cool of the night air had started to wake him from his drunken haze and he hesitated. He was getting closer to the barrier of her cabin - feeling the hum in the close distance - and he started to grind his teeth the closer he came to it.  
"You are such a fool," he muttered to himself.

But then his trained senses noticed something. The usual hum of the barrier was in distress - only in the most minuscule manner, but enough to cause panic. He rushed forward - his muscles forgetting his inebriated state and becoming alert and swift - he crossed the threshold.

It was quiet.

"Lydia?" He called - the deep thrum of his voice echoing into the silence.

He held his wand tightly. He listened for any movement, but he heard none. The door of her cabin was slightly ajar and his heart began to pump faster beneath his chest.  
He pressed the door open slightly, and called her name again - but the silence was unwavering against his ears.

She was _gone._

**Authors Note: Sorry, I know it has been a while! I have finally settled in to my new house and am ready to keep this story going!  
It was tough to jump back into it after such a long gap - but thanks for sticking around if you have! HOPEFULLY WE CAN GET TO THE GOOD STUFF SOON. GOD. WHO IS EVEN WRITING THIS STORY. WHY IS IT TAKING SO LONG.**

**K love you guys, bye! **


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